CAPTAINS'- OF 
~"~~,  :  WORLD 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


UA. 


CAPTAINS:  OF 
THE,  :  WORLD 

BY:  GWENDOLEN = OVERTON 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD 


CAPTAINS  OF  THE  WORLD 


BY 


GWENDOLEN    OVERTON 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  HERITAGE  OF  UNREST,"  "ANNE 
CARMEL,"  ETC. 


THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON:    MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LTD. 
1904 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYKIGHT,   1904, 

BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  September,  1904. 


UfortoooD 

J.  S.  Cushing  &  Co.  — Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


PS 

.2.509 


11  The  leaders  of  industry,  if  industry  is  ever  to  be  led, 
are  virtually  the  captains  of  the  world." 

—  CAELYLE. 


*C< ****** 


'      ; 


. 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 
CHAPTER  I 

El  hombre  no  conoce  la  medida  de  los  males  que  puede  sufrir 
hasta  que  ha  hecho  la  prueba. 

Man  does  not  know  the  measure  of  the  ills  he  can  bear  until  he 
has  put  it  to  the  proof. 

WITH  a  fearlessness  the  result  of  familiarity,  Beatrice 
Tennant  moved  a  few  steps  nearer  to  the  heating  pits, 
and  stood  watching  that  one  out  of  the  many  gorgeous 
and  terrible  sights  which  made  for  her  the  fascination 
of  the  mills,  bringing  her  back  to  them  time  and  again 
whenever  the  opportunity  offered.  It  had  offered  to 
night  through  Durran,  who  had  been  under  the  neces 
sity  of  showing  a  regulation  sight  to  a  visiting  stranger 
and  his  wife. 

The  wife,  whose  emotions  maturity  had  not  regulated, 
had  displayed  an  inclination  to  hold  Durran  responsible 
for  much  that  she  saw  and  imagined,  and  he  had  been 
glad  to  put  her  and  her  husband  under  charge  of  the 
nearest  available  foreman.  Having  thereby  relieved 
himself  from  aimless  questionings,  he  now  followed 
Beatrice  into  the  zone  of  heat,  where  men  worked  on 
ground  that  burst  with  flame,  and  here  and  there 


2  CAPTAINS    OP   THE   WORLD 

yielded  up  to  a  dipping  iron  beak  some  candent  ingot 
of  steel. 

"I  have  just  been  asked,"  he  told  her,  "for  what 
sins  of  their  fathers  or  their  own  these  people  are 
condemned  to  this." 

She  could  feel  for  him.  More  than  once  she  had 
herself  been  faced  with  demands  of  the  same  sort. 

"Being  only  the  general  manager  and  not  an  All- 
wise,  Inscrutable  Providence,  I  could  only  reply  after 
my  kind.  So  I  doubtless  stand  judged  by  her  as  a 
monster  of  brutality  for  having  suggested  that  their 
case  might  be  one  of  choice,  not  of  condemnation, — 
and  that  this  torture,  like  most  others,  is  pretty  well 
deadened  by  habit." 

She  did  not  answer,  and  almost  at  the  moment  there 
fell  an  ominous  silence  where  had  just  been  the  roar 
and  thunder  crashing  from  the  beam-mill.  It  was  the 
unpleasant  stillness  of  something  gone  wrong,  and 
though  Durran  started  at  once  for  the  building,  when 
he  reached  there,  fearing  a  possible  accident,  he  kept 
Beatrice  back  at  the  edge.  By  the  sizzing  arc-lights 
far  above  and  by  the  glow  from  an  unfinished  beam, 
they  saw  that  the  rolls  had  stopped.  One  of  the  help 
ers  at  the  rolls  was  coming  down  from  his  place,  and 
making  for  the  open  side  of  the  mill,  to  seize  the  oppor 
tunity  for  a  breath  of  air  at  least  a  little  less  poisoned 
than  the  fetid  vapors  he  had  inhaled  for  hours  past. 
Durran  stopped  him,  and  questioned.  The  man,  a 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WOKLD  3 

savage-looking  Hungarian  with  an  imperfect  knowl 
edge  of  English,  made  it  understood  that  the  trouble 
was  nothing  more  than  some  hitch  in  the  power-house 
which  had  brought  things  to  a  temporary  standstill. 

Over  by  the  deserted  train  of  rolls  the  department 
superintendent  had  been  in  conversation  with  a  subor 
dinate.  Now,  looking  around,  he  caught  sight  of  the 
two  upon  the  outskirts  of  his  domains,  and  recognizing 
them  for  the  manager  and  the  company  president's 
daughter,  he  crossed  over  to  them  forthwith.  His 
elaboration  of  the  helper's  explanation  was  only  partially 
intelligible  to  the  girl,  but  apparently  satisfactory  to 
Durran.  And  even  as  he  talked  he  was  cut  short  by 
the  resumption  of  work.  The  roller  was  at  his  post 
again,  and  the  glistering,  crimson  block  began  passing 
back  and  forth,  under  and  over,  narrowing,  lengthening 
each  time,  —  a  splendid  serpent  of  fire,  tame  and  harm 
less  so  long  as  its  masters  took  heed,  capable  of 
smiting  them  with  the  death  which  consumed  the  sons 
of  Levi  at  the  altar,  did  they  depart  one  jot  or  tittle 
from  the  law  —  the  law  of  unwavering  care.  Instead 
of  silence  there  was  again  the  clanking  and  clangor 
and  detonation,  a  recurrent  deafening  crash  as  of  artil 
lery  and  the  howl  of  the  saw  as  cold  steel  cut  its  way 
through  red-hot  beams,  sending  out  a  wheel  of  sparks 
in  vivid  hues. 

The  superintendent  accompanied  his  important  vis 
itors  down  the  great  length  of  the  building,  and  left 


4  CAPTAINS  OF  THE  WORLD 

them  to  go  alone  on  their  way  through  the  yards.  It 
took  them  to  the  open  hearth  department  where  the 
other  two  were  waiting.  They  picked  their  steps 
among  the  confused  lines  and  switches  of  the  tracks 
to  the  row  of  furnaces  extending  along  one  side. 

A  furnace  was  to  be  tapped,  and  when  they  came  to 
it  a  workman  offered  Beatrice  his  pair  of  blue  goggles. 
She  put  them  on  rather  than  repulse  the  well-meant 
attention  to  a  woman  whom  he  probably  did  not  know 
but  took  to  be  one  of  the  usual  visitors  desirous  of 
missing  nothing.  Yet  she  would  have  preferred  to 
miss  this,  knowing  by  previous  experience  that  even 
with  the  dark  glasses  one  might  not  remain  entirely 
undazzled  by  the  boiling,  milky  metal.  The  shutter 
being  lifted  she  looked  through  the  little  opening,  and 
as  she  took  off  the  glasses  to  give  them  back  there  was 
a  red  blur  over  her  vision.  Through  it  she  saw  indis 
tinctly  that  a  man  came  by  her,  stopped  abruptly,  and 
drew  together  the  shirt  above  his  breast.  A  touch 
upon  her  arm  made  her  turn  away  her  head  at  the  in 
stant  and  go  with  Durran  around  to  the  back  of  the 
furnace,  where  the  tapping-bar  had  already  broken  the 
fire-clay  and  the  molten  metal  was  beginning  to  flow 
out  into  the  ladle,  looking  coldly  clear  and  white.  She 
drew  back  from  the  searing  heat,  unendurable  to  her,  al 
though  the  black  shapes  of  men  worked  in  it  at  the  pit's 
very  edge.  As  they  threw  in  the  recarburizer  the  flames 
rose,  roaring  and  bellowing  and  shaking  the  shed. 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  5 

She  bent  her  arm  before  her  face.  Durran  laid  a  re 
assuring  hand  upon  her  shoulder.  She  lifted  her  head 
at  once,  and  moved  slightly  away. 

The  manganese  turned  the  flames  to  saffron  and  violet 
and  brilliant  green  ;  the  slag  bubbled  off  in  frothing 
scum.  Then  at  length  the  metal  flowed  more  and  more 
slowly  until  it  became  an  igneous  dribble.  The  travel 
ling  crane  picked  up  the  ladle  with  its  fifty  tons  of  steel 
in  fusion,  and  slowly,  evenly,  turned  it,  setting  it  down 
upon  the  car  which  waited.  The  little  engine  puffed 
and  screeched  on  the  rails,  and  pulled  its  dangerous 
load  away  down  a  vista  of  beams  and  girders  and  over 
head  tracks,  of  machinery  coarse,  gigantic,  and  black 
rooted  in  the  earth,  merging  into  the  smoke  and  vapor 
high  above.  As  the  ladle  passed  it  showed  all  around 
it,  even  to  the  corrugated  iron  of  the  roof,  sooty  and 
glow-edged. 

The  pit  itself  was  still  on  fire  with  spilled  steel  and 
slag.  A  rolling  gust  of  heat  came  up  from  it.  On 
the  edge,  at  the  farther  side,  Beatrice  saw  among  the 
workers  one  of  the  many  whom  she  knew.  It  was 
Manning,  a  melter,  and  she  was  convinced  at  once  that 
it  had  been  he  who  had  come  up  facing  her  at  the  door  of 
the  furnace  while  her  sight  had  still  been  blurred.  He 
was  not  looking  toward  her,  —  would  not,  she  believed, 
—  perhaps  misinterpreting  her  failure  to  recognize  him. 

The  breasts  of  the  other  workmen,  glistening  wet, 
were  bared  widely.  His  shirt  was  still  drawn  together 


6  CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD 

and  closed.  But  the  sleeves  were  rolled  back  from  a 
sinewy  forearm,  a  model  for  a  sculptor's  bronze.  He 
stood  near  the  pit  a  moment  longer.  Then,  still  with 
out  glancing  over  at  the  opposite  side,  went  away. 

On  the  guarded  bridge  which  led  out  from  the  yards, 
Beatrice  stopped  and  looked  back  over  a  fire-cored, 
nebulous  world.  Down  below  a  yard  engine  passed 
slowly,  dragging  a  row  of  red-hot  ingots.  There  came 
a  shivering  rumble,  a  burst  of  glare  which  belched 
and  spread  and  pulsed,  first  crimson,  then  white,  then 
varying  blues.  She  saw,  by  it,  the  river  with  its  railway 
bridges,  the  town  of  Staunton  close  at  hand,  the  wilder 
ness  of  serried  stacks  rising  from  roofs  crowded  away 
in  the  darkness.  And  she  saw,  too,  not  many  yards 
distant,  a  man  who  had  come  out  from  the  open  hearth 
building  and  was  standing  alone  in  the  night.  The 
light  grew  softer,  more  yellow,  as  the  Bessemer  blast 
died  down,  leaving  only  —  reflected  upon  the  low  hang 
ing  smoke  —  a  luminous,  pale  haze. 


CHAPTER   II 

Money  rules  because  men  are  for  sale.  —  FERGUSON.  The 
Religion  of  Democracy. 

"  THE  Prince  Valeric  ?  "  questioned  Tennant,  in  a 
surprise  not  untinged  with  awe,  although  he  gave  it 
as  casual  an  accent  as,  taken  unprepared,  he  could 
command.  Beatrice  laid  the  card  back  on  the  foot 
man's  tray,  and  it  was  carried  to  her  father.  Putting 
down  the  novel  in  his  hand,  he  read  it.  But  he  de 
rived  little  enlightenment  from  the  perusal,  and  he 
said  so,  looking  over  with  sharp,  concentrated  eyes  at 
the  daughter  who  was  so  frequently  inscrutable  to  him. 

"  He  is  an  Italian,"  she  went  into  detail.  "  He  is 
travelling  in  this  country,  and  I  met  him  last  month 
in  New  York." 

She  was  sitting  at  a  big  office  desk  at  one  side  of 
the  library,  near  an  open  fire,  and  the  letter  she  had 
been  writing  lay  unfinished  before  her. 

Tennant  still  observed  her  narrowly.  He  had  the 
not  infrequent  feeling  that  there  was,  in  Beatrice,  a 
good  deal  more  than  appeared  outwardly  in  her  some 
what  indifferent  manner.  What  it  might  be,  he  had, 
however,  never  thought  of  trying  to  find  out  or  ana 
lyze.  Character  observation  was  not  his  pursuit  save 

in  cases  where  commercial  interests  were  involved. 

7 


8  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD 

She  had  never  spoken  of  the  prince  to  him,  he 
commented.  It  was  quite  possible,  she  answered,  un 
disturbed.  It  had  not  occurred  to  her  to  do  so. 

"He  has  lost  no  time  in  following  you."  Tennant 
went  on  the  comfortable  principle  of  Bonaparte's 
beautiful  sister  as  regarded  the  personality  of  ser 
vants.  Beatrice  was  not  so  inclined  to  count  their 
individuality  wiped  out  with  wages  —  still  less  their 
power  of  sight,  hearing,  and  subsequent  speech.  The 
footman  was  still  waiting. 

"  Will  you  go  to  the  drawing-room  ? "  she  said  to 
her  father,  by  way  of  discouraging  further  observations 
for  the  present.  She  herself,  she  added,  would  follow 
as  soon  as  she  should  have  finished  her  letter.  She 
turned  and  took  up  the  pen  she  had  laid  aside. 

Could  the  man  speak  any  English  ?  Tennant  asked, 
rising  from  his  leathern  arm-chair.  He  was  a  trifle 
annoyed  at  her  attitude.  After  all,  this  was  a  prince, 
and  his  arrival  should  not  be  treated  as  that  of  a  next- 
door  neighbor  might  be.  If  she  were  playing  a  part, 
she  was  overdoing  it.  If  she  were  unaffected  —  then 
she  was  foolish. 

Beatrice  gave  the  assurance  that  the  Italian's  Eng 
lish  was,  if  anything,  more  perfect  than  their  own. 
She  did  not  think  it  advisable  to  display  the  even 
slightly  advanced  degree  of  acquaintance  which  would 
have  been  implied  by  explaining  that  the  proficiency 
was  due  to  an  English  grandmother  and  an  education 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  9 

pursued  during  several  years  at  Oxford.  Her  father 
marked  his  place  in  the  swash-buckling  and  sentimental 
romance  he  had  been  enjoying,  and  went  out  of  the 
library. 

In  the  drawing-room  he  found  something  different 
from  that  which,  with  the  self-made  American's  depre 
ciation  of  blood  at  once  noble  and  Latin,  he  had  half 
expected.  He  would  have  been  prepared  for  a  man  a 
good  deal  the  same  in  type  as  the  organ-grinder  who 
frequently  waylaid  him  in  front  of  his  office,  or  for 
a  withered  individual  who  had  dissipated  the  little 
strength  left  to  the  scion  of  an  outworn  line.  Valerio 
was  neither.  He  was  possibly  thirty  or  a  little  more  ; 
he  looked  an  athlete ;  he  was  handsome  rather  after 
the  Anglo-Saxon  conception  of  rugged-cast  features ; 
and  he  was  dark,  but  not  extremely  so. 

Tennant  went  through  the  formalities  of  greeting 
without  betraying  unduly  the  satisfaction  he  felt  at 
receiving  in  his  house  the  bearer  of  a  princely  title. 
His  daughter,  he  told  Valerio,  was  momentarily  de 
tained  in  the  library,  but  would  join  them  at  once. 
Then,  taking  his  place  upon  a  gilt  and  brocade  settee, 
he  opened  the  conversation  as  he  conceived  it  to  be 
appropriate. 

"I  have  spent  some  time  in  your  country,  Prince," 
he  said.  "  I  was  there  for  the  best  part  of  a  Spring 
three  years  ago." 

He  himself  when  he  had  been  in  Italy  had  welcomed 


10  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

every  opportunity  to  talk  of  his  own  land  with,  whoso 
ever  offered  —  had  indeed,  to  that  end,  missed  many 
opportunities  which  appealed  to  him  less,  such  as  visits 
to  galleries  and  palaces,  churches,  and  historic  scenes 
and  edifices.  At  a  table  in  some  caffe,  on  the  veranda 
of  some  hotel,  he  had  passed  his  most  agreeable  Italian 
hours,  in  company  with  any  compatriot  of  chance  or 
old  acquaintance  to  whom,  not  the  Goth  and  Vandal 
invasions,  but  that  of  the  American  product  was  actu 
ally  important. 

It  was  therefore  to  be  taken  that  Valerio,  himself 
for  the  nonce  an  expatriate,  would  have  pleasure  in 
discussing  Italy.  He  made  a  suitable  answer  now. 
And  Tennant  went  on.  Italy  to  him  meant  a  national 
financial  regeneration  and  the  commercial  revival  of 
a  people  dead  almost  to  decay.  It  was  certainly  not 
Valerie's  common  viewpoint,  which  rather  gave  back 
ward  over  the  centuries  than  upon  the  present  or  im 
mediate  future.  But  he  adapted  himself  to  it,  and 
displayed  information  more  exact  and  wide  than 
Tennant's  own.  He  wished  to  stand  well  with  this 
American.  For  he  hoped  to  marry  his  daughter. 

The  two  men  took  estimates  of  each  other  the  while 
they  talked.  Tennant  saw  an  agreeable  man  still  in 
robust  youth,  who  was  probably  in  search  of  a  fortune 
—  any  fortune.  So  far  as  it  went  it  was  already  par 
tially  incorrect.  That  which  is  known  as  keen  Ameri 
can  insight  does  not  cast  a  light  into  the  depths  of  the 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  11 

complicated  natures  produced  by  centuries  of  cultiva 
tion  and  aristocratic  training.  It  is  reflected  upon  the 
very  surface  by  too  many  facets. 

Valerio  was  not  in  search  of  any  fortune.  That 
financial  regeneration  of  the  peninsula,  upon  which 
Tennant  was  prone  to  look  hopefully,  had  not  as  yet 
greatly  benefited  the  Valerio  estates.  But  Valerio 
himself  was  far  from  destitute,  having  inherited  from 
his  mother.  As  an  individual  he  was  not  and  would, 
in  all  likelihood,  never  be  poor.  His  ancestral  domains, 
however,  were  beginning  to  show  neglect.  Those  with 
their  historical  and  sentimental  treasures  were  more 
to  him  than  could  be  any  possible  consideration  save 
his  self-respect.  And  this  he  did  not  feel  that  he 
would  injure  by  such  a  marriage  as  he  proposed  for 
himself.  He  would  have  been  glad  to  have  been  able 
to  bestow  rather  than  exchange,  but  as  selling  himself 
he  did  not  for  a  moment  consider  it.  Without  un 
seemly  self-esteem  he  knew  himself  to  be  a  man  whom 
a  woman  might  both  love  and  trust  with  her  welfare. 
He  could  give  to  a  wife  titles  which  were  not  to  be 
despised  as  empty  —  filled  as  they  were  with  honor  and 
associations  —  a  name  which,  judged  by  the  standards 
of  the  centuries  through  which  it  had  passed,  was  a 
good  as  well  as  great  one.  Moreover,  he  had  no  inten 
tion  of  marrying  without  at  least  affection  upon  his 
own  part.  During  the  time  of  his  visit  to  the  New 
World  many  women  had  tacitly  proposed  themselves  or 


12  CAPTAINS  OF  THE  WORLD 

been  proposed  for  his  notice,  women  —  not  a  few  —  of 
wealth,  greater  than  might  be  counted  upon  to  go 
with  Alan  Tennant's  daughter.  Yet  he  had  found 
repugnant  the  idea  of  making  any  one  of  them  the 
mistress  over  his  well-beloved  estates,  the  mother  of 
children  who  would  be  descended  from  his  illustrious 
forbears,  inheriting  upon  his  side  splendid  and  admir 
able  traditions.  He  was  not  sordid.  No  riches  could 
have  paid  him  to  deliberately  undertake  spending  his 
life  with  a  woman  whose  presence  would  be  a  constant 
mortification  of  the  soul.  Then,  too,  in  numerous 
cases  the  parents  of  the  girls  who  had  been  set  forth 
for  his  choice  had  seemed  to  him  to  present  atavistic 
possibilities  appalling  to  contemplate. 

With  Tennant,  so  far  as  he  could  judge  by  hearsay 
and  by  this  first  glance,  the  objection  did  not  present 
itself.  He  knew  the  man's  personal  history,  knew 
that,  though  now  the  possessor  of  millions,  he  had 
been,  not  much  over  a  quarter  century  before,  a  son 
of  nobody  and  a  workingman.  Yet  that  same  humor- 
gifted  Fortune  which  had  given  to  Valerie's  own  father 
a  build  and  face  worthy  the  heaviest  peasant  upon  the 
estates,  had  willed  it  that  this  American  of  unrecorded 
paternity  should  look  the  offspring  from  a  long  line. 
It  was  possible  to  imagine,  without  revulsion,  Alan 
Tennant  as  the  grandsire  of  children  bearing  the 
Valeric  names,  to  foresee  him  in  Valerio  palaces  and 
castles,  without  a  sense  of  outraged  congruity.  Had  it 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOKLD  13 

not  been  indeed  men  of  just  such  characteristics,  just 
such  energies  —  though  differently  directed  in  accord 
ance  with  a  different  age  —  who  had  founded  the 
Valeric  family  in  time  gone  by,  in  the  midst  of  a  society 
in  process_of  formation  as  was  the  present  American 
one  ?  Tennant,  hardly  yet  in  middle  age,  spare, 
straight,  iron-gray,  was  in  no  respect  plebeian  —  even  in 
those  hands  which  usually  told  the  tale  but  here  were 
no  betrayers.  The  mental  type  also  was  too  direct, 
circumscribed,  forceful,  devoid  of  pretence,  to  be  vulgar. 

Upon  the  whole  Valerio  was  well  satisfied  that  Ten 
nant  spoke  of  the  financial  and  business  Italy,  and  did 
not  make  an  attempt  which  would  have  been  cheapen 
ing  to  simulate  a  comprehension  of  its  art  and  tradi 
tions.  He  felt  admiration  for  the  successful  American. 
And  he  felt  something  of  pity  too,  as  a  man  in  posses 
sion  of  all  five  senses  might  for  another  having  only 
one  or  two.  Let  Fate  take  from  himself  all  but  the  bare 
means  of  livelihood,  and  his  powers  of  enjoyment,  his 
resources  for  happiness,  would  still  be  manifold.  But 
for  Alan  Tennant,  without  either  wealth  or  the  chance 
of  amassing  it,  existence  would  hold  nothing.  By 
that  universal  foot-rule  he  himself  remained  incalcu 
lably  the  better  man. 

And  then,  when  a  footman  held  back  the  portieres  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  room,  he  rose  and  remained 
standing.  As  Beatrice  Tennant  came  in,  the  inward 
vision  which  had  let  him  see  her  father  in  palace  halls 


14  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

showed  him  the  portrait  of  this  young  woman  in  place 
beside  those  of  his  ancestors'  wives.  Such  a  canvas 
might  well  perpetuate  her  as  she  advanced  now,  —  the 
fawn  color  of  her  hair,  the  pale  gold  of  her  dress  against 
the  deeper  Indian  yellow  draperies  in  the  doorway. 
What  American  writer  was  it  who,  he  recalled,  held 
that  the  stamp  of  origin  was  not  to  be  effaced  ?  Here 
was  the  refutation. 

After  what  Valerio  had  come  to  accept  as  the  all  but 
invariable  custom  of  the  land,  Tennant  presently  with 
drew  upon  a  pretext  which  it  was  possible  to  accept 
as  'valid.  He  himself  stayed  for  fully  an  hour  there 
after.  And  Beatrice,  too,  spoke  to  him  of  his  own 
country.  But  he  could  see  from  the  first  that  it  meant 
much  to  her  which  it  did  not  mean  to  either  Tennant 
or  himself.  To  Tennant  it  was  the  rich  and  the  makers 
of  riches  ;  to  him  it  was  the  great  and  the  makers  of 
greatness  ;  to  her  it  was  those  who  were  neither  rich 
nor  great — the  people.  He  felt  that  their  acquaint 
ance  did  not  justify  him  in  trying  to  put  the  con 
versation  upon  too  personal  a  basis,  as  he  would  have 
liked  to  do  in  order  to  go  below  the  surface  of  a  nature 
singularly  reticent.  She  had  apparently,  however, 
an  ordinary  knowledge  of  Roman  and  Italian  history 
and  a  mind  to  which  history  is  more  than  dates  and 
independent  events.  By  learning  those  happenings 
and  characters  which  interested  her  most,  he  believed 
that  he  would  be  able  to  draw  accurate  conclusions 


CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WOULD  15 

regarding  herself,  her  tastes  and  sympathies.  And 
he  felt  that  they  would  be  worth  knowing. 

Presently  he  was  able  to  surmise  that  not  the  doges 
in  their  palace  but  the  prisoners  in  the  dungeons  across 
the  bridge  appealed  to  her,  —  that  those  were  her  fav 
orites  among  the  artists  who  had  been  of  humble  birth 
and  had  battled  against  obstacles.  And  it  was  no  one 
of  the  three  exemplars  of  superior  humanity,  Crassus, 
Csesar,  nor  even  Marcus  Aurelius,  who  was  her  hero. 
He  permitted  himself  comment  upon  this  much,  adding, 
"It  is,  I  should  be  inclined  to  say,  Rienzi."  "It  is 
Rienzi,"  she  told  him.  She  was  not  impetuous.  Save 
for  the  meaning  behind  the  eyes  which  were  almost  the 
same  light  fawn  brown  as  the  hair,  he  would  hardly  have 
given  her  credit  for  enthusiasms.  Outwardly  she  was, 
as  he  had  seen  before,  very  self-contained  for  so  young 
a  woman.  "  Even,"  —  he  could  not  forbear  from  ques 
tioning,  "  —  even  the  man  who  tried  to  make  himself 
so  drunk  with  display  and  pomp  as  to  forget  his  begin 
nings  ?  "  She  answered  with  the  excuse  of  that  final 
phase,  that  possibly  the  effort  to  raise  and  better  the 
masses,  to  inspire  them  with  some  of  one's  own  ambi 
tion,  was  calculated  to  bring  about  either  flaccid  indif 
ference  at  the  last,  or  else  reaction  into  the  existence 
of  a  tyrant  or  a  sybarite. 

He  himself  came  from  a  line  which  had  small 
sympathy  with  any  such  effort,  which  had  more  than 
once  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  people  or  of  those 


16  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

risen  from  them.  Yet  the  daughter  of  an  erstwhile 
workingman  found  him  better  able  to  enter  into 
her  ideas  than  many  in  whom  the  class  bond  might 
have  been  expected  to  create  also  a  bond  of  compre 
hension. 

In  the  days,  now  five  years  past,  when  she  had 
come  back  from  a  French  convent  and  had  begun 
to  take  charge  of  certain  charities  for  her  father,  to 
interest  herself  in  conditions  around  her,  —  almost  new 
again  to  a  great  deal  that  she  had  to  see,  —  she  had 
spoken  openly. 

The  surprise,  amusement,  or  hardly  hidden  annoy 
ance  with  which  she  had  been  met  had  taught  her  to 
keep  silence  thereafter,  before  her  world,  upon  any  but 
the  most  impersonal,  innocuous  topics. 

Valeric  had  led  her  to  abandon  her  reserve,  and  she 
was  conscious  of  being  regretful  when  the  footman 
again  held  back  the  curtains  and  announced  Durran. 

Valerio  went  away  almost  at  once,  after  having  told 
Beatrice  that  he  would  be  for  some  days  in  the  city. 
And  the  curtains  had  barely  dropped  together  behind 
him  when  Durran,  for  his  part  not  objecting  to  direct 
ness  or  to  asking  point-blank  that  which  he  wished 
to  know,  inquired  respecting  him.  Beatrice  answered 
his  questions. 

"  Is  he,  too,  going  to  want  to  marry  you  ?  "  Durran 
finished  the  catechism. 

She  smiled,  raising  her  eyebrows  a  trifle. 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  17 

"  He  is  a  dilatory  person,  perhaps,"  she  said.  "  I 
have  known  him  several  weeks,  have  met  him  three 
or  four  times,  and  seen  him  in  my  own  house  once  — 
yet  he  has  not  signified  his  intentions." 

"  He  will,"  he  said  decisively.  "  You  may  trust 
him  not  to  run  any  unnecessary  risks." 

Durran  himself  made  no  secret  of  his  wish  to  marry 
Beatrice  Teiinant.  One  refusal  upon  her  part  had  not 
discouraged  him.  And  he  could  have  the  comfortable 
knowledge  that  his  suit  was  hardly  —  like  that  of  many 
another  —  to  be  ascribed  to  mercenary  motives.  He 
was  not  so  rich  as  Tennant,  but  he  was  well  on  the 
road  to  becoming  so.  Moreover,  though  he  had  begun 
his  working  life  as  a  water  boy  at  the  Staunton  plant, 
he  was  of  good  birth,  and  had  behind  him  a  family 
which  even  yet  only  reluctantly  admitted  Tennant  to 
acquaintance. 

Pending  the  acceptance  as  a  lover  which  he  con 
tinued  to  hope  for,  he  was  willing  to  remain  on 
the  footing  of  very  good  friendship  that  Beatrice 
encouraged. 

He  talked  now,  for  a  time,  about  various  indiffer 
ent  and  trivial  matters.  "  It  was  not  all  this  I 
came  to  say,  though,"  he  interrupted  himself  in  the 
midst  of  some  trivialities.  "It  was  something  con 
cerning  a  friend  of  yours, — that  young  Manning,  by 
whom  you  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lester  swear,  I  believe." 

"Is  he  promoted?"  she  questioned. 


18  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

"No,"  answered  Durran,  "I  regret  to  say  that  he 
is  not.  On  the  contrary,  he  is  discharged.  He," 
reiterated  Durran,  "  and  several  others,  with  more 
to  follow,  very  possibly.  Your  father  has  told  you 
nothing  of  it?" 

"No,"  she  said,  "nothing." 

It  was  rarely  Tennant's  custom  to  speak  to  her  of 
anything  connected  with  the  conduct  of  his  affairs. 
Durran,  however,  saw  no  reason  why  she  should  not 
hear  of  this.  It  was  one  of  her  advantages  as  a  friend 
that  she  kept  things  to  herself.  And,  in  any  case, 
the  news  would  be  common  property  by  morning. 

"  What,"  Beatrice  asked,  "  has  Manning  done  —  or 
neglected?" 

Durran  undertook  to  explain  at  some  length.  There 
had  of  late  arisen  in  the  minds  of  the  managers  a  sus 
picion  that  an  attempt  was  being  made  to  unionize 
the  men  at  Staunton  and  other  of  the  company's  plants. 
To  permit  this,  being  contrary  to  the  definite  policy, 
it  was  proposed  to  nip  any  such  tendency  in  the  bud. 
"To  which  end,"  said  Durran,  "there  were  hired  for 
service  at  the  various  mills  certain  detectives.  Ap 
parently  the  most  successful  is  a  scallywag  named 
Clement,  whose  duties  are  at  Staunton.  He  does  not 
have  to  resort  to  the  ancient  and  pretty  generally 
suspected  method  of  hanging  around  bar-rooms  and 
street  corners.  He  knows  the  work.  Some  years  ago 
he  used  to  be  a  shearman,  I  believe  —  of  the  snow- 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  19 

bird  variety,  probably,  only  standing  turn  when  winter 
drove  him  to  it."  Durran,  warming  to  his  subject, 
leaned  forward  and  threw  his  arm  over  the  back  of 
his  chair  —  an  exceedingly  fragile  example  of  furniture 
in  the  style  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  belonging  prop 
erly  enough,  perhaps,  to  the  period  of  the  Precieux, 
but  having  little  fitness  with  that  of  the  man  of 
affairs. 

"  Clement's  occupation,"  he  went  on,  "  has  been  to 
spy  for  and  report  any  tendency  toward  union  senti 
ments  in  the  men.  He  works  inside  the  plant,  and 
outside  there  is  a  girl  named  Laura  Halloran  — 
another  bad  lot  —  who  is  in  love  with  him  and  is 
supposed  to  help  him.  They  manage  it  together 
by  methods  best  known  to  themselves.  Well,"  he 
concluded,  "Manning  had  been  under  suspicion  for 
some  time  anyway.  Now  he  has  joined  the  union. 
And  when  he  comes  off  turn  to-morrow  morning  he 
will  be  informed  that  his  services  are  to  be  dispensed 
with." 

Beatrice  was  silent  for  a  time.  Then  she  expressed 
a  doubt  as  to  the  probable  efficacy  of  the  method. 
Durran  acquiesced.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders  with 
a  gesture  of  indifference.  "  It  is  not  in  history  to  the 
best  of  my  knowledge,"  he  said,  "  that  such  ways  of 
checking  popular  causes  are  successful.  And  it  is  a 
popular  cause  —  as  well  as  an  inevitable  effect.  These 
men  —  who  are  liked,  I  am  told  —  are  pretty  sure  to  be 


20  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

looked  upon  as  martyrs.  And  you  know  the  effect 
ascribed  to  the  blood  of  those." 

Beatrice  sat  in  thought,  a  row  of  even  teeth  pressing 
upon  her  under  lip,  her  brow  frowning.  "  Whatever 
he  has  done,"  she  said  at  last,  "  I  think  he  has  done 
because  he  saw  it  as  his  duty." 

"  Possibly,"  answered  Durran,  without  much  convic 
tion.  "  The  superintendent  of  that  department  thinks, 
however,  that  it  is  because  he  has  the  labor-leader  bee 
in  his  bonnet  and  is  a  restless  sort  of  Lucifer  who 
prefers  reigning  in  hell  to  serving  in  heaven.  I,"  he 
disclaimed  personal  bias,  "  am  not  prepared  to  judge. 
I  don't  know  him.  I  inquired  about  him  once  because 
he  struck  my  eye  as  a  fine  specimen  of  a  man.  They 
told  me  he  was  studying  along  the  lines  of  mechanics 
and  metallurgy,  and  had  already  devised  a  couple  of 
minor  inventions,  which  he  had  patented.  But  I  was 
also  told  that  he  had  union  leanings,  so  I  had  not 
much  expectation  of  his  advancement." 

Later,  after  Durran  had  gone,  Beatrice  went  up  to 
her  own  sitting-room.  It  had  more  the  look  of  being 
lived  in  than  any  other  part  of  the  big  house  —  which 
was  in  point  of  fact  hardly  fairly  inhabited.  Herself 
and  her  father  were  the  only  inmates,  save  for  the 
score  of  servants  relegated  to  one  semi-detached  end. 
Yet  even  here  where  Beatrice  spent  really  a  good 
portion  of  her  time,  there  was  nothing  about  which 
seemed  to  cling  any  further  associations  than  those  of 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  21 

easy  purchase.  The  pictures,  the  furniture,  every  one 
of  the  useful  articles  or  ornaments,  might  have  been 
bought  —  given  a  sufficiently  full  purse  —  in  a  few 
days. 

As  in  the  whole  house,  the  present  inmates  might 
have  gone  out  and  others  have  come  in  and  the  sur 
roundings  would  have  borne  no  more  personal  relation 
to  one  owner  than  to  another.  It  was  a  lack  to  which 
Tennant  himself  was  not  sensitive.  He  had,  four 
years  previously,  at  the  time  the  house  had  been 
completed,  hired  an  expensive  decorator  to  furnish  for 
him.  Everything  had  cost  money  and  plenty  of  it. 
It  must  therefore  be  good,  and  he  was  satisfied. 
Beatrice  felt  the  want  of  something  more  than  costli 
ness  and  the  taste  of  a  hireling.  Those  things  which 
money  never  buys  and  which  make  of  a  house  a  home 
were  not  in  the  white  granite  palace,  —  those  things 
which  have  so  irresistible  an  attraction  for  one's 
individual  wish  or  fancy  that  they  have  to  be 
acquired,  even  at  the  price  of  some  slight  sacrifice  of 
lesser  inclinations,  or  else  the  inanimate  objects  which 
have  grown  into  one's  life  from  long  association,  from 
long  habit  and  use. 

In  Beatrice  Tennant's  life  there  had  been  almost  no 
time  intervening  between  that  one  where  she  had  had 
practically  nothing,  and  the  more  recent  one  where 
she  had  had  too  much.  In  Staunton,  when  her  father 
had  still  lived  and  worked  there,  in  the  boarding-house 


22  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

/ 

which  had  followed,  in  the  New  York  school  and  the 
Parisian  convent  which  had  come  after  that,  she  had 
owned  only  necessities.  In  the  past  half  decade  she 
had  bought  all  manner  of  things  without  having  to 
give  a  thought  to  cost.  Another  woman  with  the 
same  fortune  at  her  disposal,  with  the  same  good, 
though  not  eclectic  taste,  would  have  had  much  of 
what  filled  Beatrice's  bedroom  and  sitting-room  to 
overflowing.  It  was  only  the  almost  unvarying  yel 
lows,  creams,  gold  and  tans  which  she  affected  in 
all  that  surrounded  her,  even  to  her  dress,  that  be 
spoke  an  individual  choice.  That,  and  the  books. 
There  were  many  of  these,  and  they  were  by  no 
means  the  regulation  English  and  foreign  classics. 
They  gave  evidence  of  a  mind  not  guided  by  prece 
dent,  liking  strong  food  as  well  as  lighter,  one  upon 
the  whole  more  modern  and  practical  than  of  the 
past  or  dreaming.  She  tried  now  to  read  one  of  the 
books.  It  was  the  Jack  of  Daudet,  and  it  lay  open 
at  a  description  of  that  most  pathetic  boy-figure  of  all 
fiction,  at  work  in  the  foundry  at  Indret.  But  the 
story  set  her  to  thinking  of  another  boy,  one  whom  she 
had  known,  and  who  had  worked  in  the  Staunton 
plant.  She  had  been  a  friend  of  Manning's  then, 
when  they  had  both  been  children  of  the  same  age. 
Mrs.  Manning,  deserted  by  her  husband,  had  been 
obliged  to  support  herself  and  her  one  child.  She 
had  done  sewing  and  made  dresses  for  the  workmen's 


CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WORLD  23 

wives,  —  a  not  badly  paying  occupation,  since  those 
had  been  the  times  of  wages  so  high  that  the  skilled 
men  could  clothe  their  wives  well.  The  boy  had 
helped,  nevertheless,  by  selling  papers,  and,  an  inde 
pendent  spirit  developing  young,  had,  at  twelve  years 
old,  gone  regularly  at  steadier  work.  Beatrice  and 
he  had  played  together  during  their  earliest  child 
hood  and,  though  more  and  more  rarely,  until  Ten- 
nant  had  ceased  to  live  in  Staunton  and  had  come 
across  the  river  to  the  city.  Beatrice  had  been,  soon 
after,  sent  to  school  in  New  York,  and  then  to  the 
French  convent.  She  had  heard  nothing  of  her  old 
playmate  and  had  almost  forgotten  him.  No  one  had 
let  her  know  of  it  when  Mrs.  Manning  died.  Man 
ning  was  a  workingman.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a 
managing  director  in  a  great  and  important  company. 
Then  she  had  left  the  convent  and  had,  at  the  begin 
ning  of  her  eighteenth  year,  come  back  to  live  with 
her  father.  Besides  taking  charge,  at  her  own  request, 
of  some  of  the  charities  he  practised,  she  had  turned 
to  helping  Lester,  the  young  and  practical  rector  at 
Staunton,  with  some  of  his  work  for  the  moral  and 
social  betterment  of  the  parish.  She  had  found  Neil 
Manning  already  doing  the  same  in  his  rare  hours  of 
leisure,  and  she  had  seen  that  he  and  Lester  were 
exceedingly  good  friends,  regardless  of  the  difference 
in  birth  and  station.  Yet  between  himself  and  her 
Manning  had  insisted  upon  keeping  a  gulf  of  reserve. 


24  CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD 

And  he  had  never  allowed  her  to  succeed  in  bridging 
it.  With  Lester  he  was  merely  another  man;  with 
her  he  was  her  father's  employee  and  clearly  wished 
to  remain  just  that. 

She  left  her  chair,  and  putting  the  book  down 
upon  a  tabouret  went  over  to  a  window  which 
looked  toward  the  west.  As  she  stood  there  the 
thin  chime  of  a  little  clock  struck  eleven  times. 
Another  clock  somewhere  in  another  room  struck 
also,  very  deliberately  and  sonorously.  A  third  be 
gan  before  the  second  had  finished.  It  was  muffled 
by  distance.  Then  there  was  the  quiet  of  the  Spring 
night  again,  —  but  not  the  darkness. 

Over  across  the  roofs  of  the  city  houses,  beyond 
the  river,  in  one  of  the  plants  belonging  to  her 
father's  company,  or  some  other,  a  blast  furnace  top 
opened,  and  the  stars  paled  away.  The  leaves  of 
the  trees  in  the  big  grounds  about  the  house  glinted, 
the  chimneys  against  the  sky  line  were  silhouetted 
black.  The  light  grew  less  and  less,  and  left  once 
more  the  deep  sky  and  the  stars,  —  bright  here  above 
the  city,  but  blurred  by  the  thick  atmosphere  of  the 
smoke  settled  over  the  works.  In  those  works  men 
were  standing  over  ladles  of  seething  steel,  above 
fiery  soaking  pits,  under  the  converter's  pouring  sparks, 
in  the  fetid  vapors  that  rose  from  the  salt  and  water 
dropped  on  white-hot  steel  at  the  rolls,  in  the  terrible 
crashing  and  bursting  thunder  which  never  ceased. 


CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WORLD  25 

She  thought  of  Manning  as  he  had  been  in  the 
yards  outside  the  open-hearth  building,  alone  in  the 
gloom  which  was  filled  with  the  puffings  of  engines, 
the  rattling  of  wheels,  the  roar  from  rolling-mills, 
the  shriek  of  saws,  alone  under  the  smoke  which 
misted  steam  and  clung  low  in  the  dead  air.  She 
remembered  the  face  which  the  glare  from  the  con 
verter  had  showed,  the  big  corded  throat,  the  breast, 
again  bared,  and  the  sinewy  arms  hanging  straight 
down.  She  looked  back  at  her  own  room,  in  the 
light  of  an  amber-shaded  lamp,  fragrant  with  nar 
cissus  and  daffodils  in  bowls  and  vases. 

That  over  there  where  the  blast  furnace  had  lit  the 
heavens,  was  Manning's  life.  This  —  through  no  merit 
or  exertion  of  her  own  —  was  hers. 


CHAPTER  III 

Mais  les  apparances  sont  les  faits  et  les  illusions  sont  les 
puissances  qui  produisent  des  actions  reelles  et  considerables. 

But  appearances  are  the  facts  and  illusions  are  the  powers 
which  produce  real  and  important  actions.  —  LAVISSE. 

"Or  such  stuff  national  well-being  and  the  glory 
of  rulers  is  made,"  adapted  Manning.  He  was  on 
the  wide  terrace  of  the  hospital  building  which  was 
at  the  top  of  a  hill  above  Staunton.  The  name  of 
Tennant  was  cut  deep  and  large  over  the  portals  for 
all  to  read.  Tennant  had  given  the  hospital,  and 
there  were  those  who  held  that  his  bushels  were 
in  requisition  for  other  purposes  than  extinguishing 
the  light  of  his  benefactions.  His  good  works  shone 
before  men. 

Manning  had  observed  the  spread  name  as  he 
had  gone  up  the  steps,  and  had  had  thoughts  not  a 
little  cynical.  Now,  coming  out  again,  though  he 
stood  just  below  it,  he  forgot  it.  The  triviality  of 
cynicism  was  neither  common  with  him,  nor  yet  con 
gruous.  And  it  had  no  place  after  the  gravity  of 
the  approaching  death  he  had  just  been  looking 
upon.  It  had  been  that  of  a  young  Swede,  a  la 
borer  in  the  same  department  with  himself. 

26 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WOULD  27 

Toward  morning  there  had  come  about  an  accident 
at  the  mills,  due  to  the  carelessness  of  a  crane-man. 

In  the  plants  under  Tennant's  charge  it  was  rare  that 
an  accident  was  the  result  of  the  owner's  neglect. 
Tennant's  machinery  was  kept  in  repair,  even  though 
the  high  pressure  of  production  had,  at  intervals,  to  be 
relaxed,  —  an  example  which  many  other  mills  in  the 
vicinity  might  have  followed  to  the  saving  of  lives. 
This  present  mishap,  which  had  cost  two  men,  had 
happened  close  upon  the  end  of  the  night  turn.  It 
was  usually  near  the  end  of  shifts  that  accidents  oc 
curred,  when  the  men  were  overtired  after  the  long 
strain.  Upon  this  occasion  the  throwing  of  a  wrong 
controller  lever  by  a  crane-man,  dazed  with  eleven  and 
a  half  hours  of  faculties  intensely  upon  the  stretch, 
had  resulted  in  spilling  a  half  ladle  of  molten  steel. 

A  Polish  laborer  had  been  killed  at  once.  The 
Swede,  Steinberg,  had  been  less  fortunate.  He  was 
still  living  after  three  hours  of  hideous,  incredible 
suffering. 

In  the  gray  dawn  Manning  had  seen  the  whole 
catastrophe,  had  seen  the  Pole  —  stupidly  where  he 
did  not  belong  —  deluged  from  head  to  foot  by  the 
liquid  fire,  and  Steinberg  caught  with  the  lapping 
white  flame  about  his  feet.  He  had  heard  the  shrieks 
as  the  Swede  had  fallen  forward  upon  his  side  before 
it  was  possible  to  drag  him  out. 

After  that,  within  the  hour  he  had  been  notified  of 


28  CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD 

his  own  dismissal,  which,  by  the  men's  contract  with 
the  company,  could  be  immediate  under  the  circum 
stances.  He  had  gone  back  to  his  room,  bathed,  and 
dressed,  had  taken  a  cup  of  coffee  at  his  boarding-house, 
and  then  come  directly  to  the  hospital.  He  had  found 
Steinberg  begging  and  imploring  for  his  wife.  "  Don't 
let  her  come,"  he  himself  had  urged  the  physician  ; 
"  there  is  to  be  a  child  soon.  She  ought  not  to  see 
this."  But  the  wife,  who  had  finally  heard  of  the 
accident,  had  arrived  and  almost  forced  her  way  to  the 
bedside  of  the  cruelly  tortured  and  disfigured  man. 
Manning  had  been  able  to  endure  the  sight  of  the  young 
Swede's  pain.  That  of  the  wife  —  hardly  more  than 
a  sweet,  blond  child  —  had  made  him  turn  after  a  few 
moments  and  leave  the  room.  She  had  screamed  and 
fainted,  and  waking  screamed  again,  absolutely  without 
courage  or  fortitude.  His  nerves  were  quivering  and 
sick  yet,  as  he  stepped  out  upon  the  terrace  and  drew 
in  long  breaths  of  the  early  morning  air.  The  shock 
of  the  accident  to  this  mere  boy  whom  he  had  liked  had 
kept  him  from  thinking  of  his  own  dismissal.  Now, 
however,  it  recurred  to  him.  He  was  a  discharged 
workingman,  a  wage-earner  without  a  job,  one  of  the 
unemployed.  In  view  of  the  general  strike  all  over  the 
country  he  was  likely  to  remain  so  for  some  time  to 
come.  From  his  sixth  year  until  now  he  had  worked 
and  earned,  and  been  never  a  day  in  want  of  a  position. 
At  present  he  was  cast  off  without  an  hour's  warning. 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  29 

It  was  a  practically  inevitable  contingency  though, 
which  he  had  foreseen  upon  becoming  a  member  of 
the  association.  Tennant's  attitude  toward  union  men 
was  too  well  known  to  admit  of  misunderstanding.  If 
they  were  his  own,  they  were  discharged.  If  they 
wished  to  become  so,  they  were  not  employed.  A  con 
flict  of  serious  nature  between  misguided  union  labor 
and  the  directors  of  the  Staunton  plant,  which  had 
taken  place  some  years  back,  had  dictated  the  policy. 
And  Manning,  who  knew  the  history  of  that  event,  and 
had  himself  been  in  Staunton  at  the  time,  could  not  but 
find  plenty  of  justification  for  the  company. 

Yet  his  long,  stern  mouth  shut  hard  as  he  looked 
over  Staunton.  The  mills  covered  acre  after  acre  of 
ground  far  up  the  river,  scores  of  dark-red  sheds,  some 
of  them  hundreds  of  feet  long,  set  sidewise,  crosswise, 
at  all  angles  over  the  yards.  The  smoke  hung  gray 
and  low  above  them.  A  hot,  red  flame  showed  just 
then  from  under  the  roof  of  his  own  open-hearth 
building.  Engines  leaving  long  rolls  of  smoke  behind 
tore  through  the  yards,  pulling  all  but  interminable 
trains  of  coke.  The  smaller  yard  engines,  dragging 
their  loads  of  fiery  ingots  puffed  very  slowly  to  and 
fro.  A  crane  was  moving  evenly  along  its  overhead 
tracks,  with  a  couple  of  tiny  shapes  clinging  to  it,  — 
workmen  getting  a  ride.  And  always  the  thick  smoke 
poured  and  rolled  from  countless  stacks.  Here  and 
there  it  was  an  angry,  brick  red,  and  in  other  places 


30  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

the  steam  from  smaller  stacks  was  white  against  it. 
A  smoke-shrouded  world  —  and  angry  fires  within. 

Between  the  plant  and  the  hospital  was  an  enclosure 
where  some  boys  played  already,  practising  the  base 
ball  for  which  Staunton  was  noted  among  the  neighbor 
ing  plants.  They  were  in  the  recreation  grounds  of 
the  town,  a  bare,  dusty  space  inside  a  board  fence. 

Far  beyond  across  the  river  were  the  hills  with  their 
newly  green  trees.  The  city  was  behind  them,  out  of 
sight  save  for  the  higher-set  buildings. 

There  rose  over  Staunton  itself  the  spires  of  several 
churches.  Upon  two  were  gilded  crosses  which  caught 
the  early  sunlight  and  glistened  dazzlingly.  The 
churches  were  in  the  worst  part  of  the  town,  and 
Manning  thought  of  the  squalid,  ugly  streets  above 
which  the  crosses  shone,  and  where  children  teemed 
and  swarmed.  For  the  greatest  part  they  were  un 
lovely  children,  fit  products  of  the  life. 

A  life  it  was,  none  the  less,  which  to  himself  was 
tremendous  and  real  and  of  sombre  dignity.  In  those 
long,  dull  sheds,  just  below,  in  all  the  others  which 
lined  the  banks  of  the  big,  dirty  river,  in  hundreds 
of  the  sort  over  the  world,  was  being  formed  the  steel 
skeleton  around  which  the  body  of  modern  material 
civilization  grew.  A  man  might  —  as  many  did  — 
hate  this  work  here,  and  dread  it.  But  at  least  it  was 
not  to  be  despised.  It  was  the  work  of  men.  And 
now  he  had  it  no  longer.  Howbeit,  —  thanks  to  good 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  31 

pay  and  habits  of  sobriety  and  thrift,  —  he  was  neither 
by  any  means  destitute,  nor  likely  to  become  so  in  the 
future.  So  long  as  his  health  and  strength  should 
last,  he  could  never  be  in  actual  need.  Weaker  men, 
even  though  equally  deserving,  might  be  trampled 
under  in  the  struggle  for  work,  but  such  sheer  physi 
cal  power  as  was  in  his  muscles  of  steel,  directed 
by  a  clear  head,  could  never  be  unhired  in  the 
market. 

Yet  as  the  cold,  gray  eyes  under  their  straight  and 
black  brows  rested  on  the  roof  of  the  shed  in  which 
he  had  been  employed,  there  came  in  them  a  hardness 
which  was  the  instinctive  disguising  of  regret.  His 
was  of  those  natures,  not  by  any  means  usually  the 
least  sentient,  to  which  exploited  sentiment  is  abhor 
rent. 

A  doctor  came  out  upon  the  terrace  and  started  to 
cross  it.  Then  he  saw  Manning  and  turned,  going 
over  to  him. 

"  Steinberg  is  dead,"  he  said. 

Manning  expressed  himself  as  glad  that  the  end  had 
come. 

"Yes,"  agreed  the  doctor,  "with  a  wage-earner  in 
about  any  walk  of  life  it  is  feeble  mawkishness  to  wish 
him  spared  to  live  after  any  crippling  accident." 

Manning,  who  had  seen  more  than  enough  of  the 
sickening  misery  of  such  survivals,  nodded  his  head 
with  decision.  "  And  the  wife  ?  "  he  asked. 


32  CAPTAIXS  OF   THE  WORLD 

"  Mercifully  unconscious  again.  They  have  taken 
her  into  one  of  the  wards.  It  is  a  pity,"  the  doc 
tor  added,  "  that  there  is  to  be  a  child.  How  can  the 
birth  of  a  posthumous  child  to  the  widow  of  a  man 
who  has  been  earning  day-laborer's  wages  be  looked 
upon,  even  with  any  stretch  of  sentiment,  as  a 
blessing  ?  " 

He  drew  solace  however  from  the  probability  that 
the  company  would  follow  its  usual  custom  in  cases 
of  the  sort,  and  come  in  with  financial  aid  for  the 
present. 

He  went  off  toward  the  house  of  one  of  the  superin 
tendents,  and  Manning  took  his  own  way  along  a  path 
of  black  cinders  leading  to  the  lower  part  of  the  town. 
His  feet  crunched  heavily,  firmly.  There  was  never 
indecision  in  his  steps,  not  even  now,  when  perhaps  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life  he  was  without  definite  pur 
pose.  His  head  hung  down  and  his  face  had  settled 
into  severe  lines.  Any  one  seeing  him  and  chancing 
to  know  that  he  had  been  discharged  would  have  put 
it  down  that  he  was  brooding  and  angry  over  the  loss 
of  a  position.  It  was  only  that,  however,  in  so  far  as  it 
presented  itself  in  connection  with  another  thing,  —  one 
the  least  likely  of  all  others  to  have  occurred  to  who 
soever  might  have  speculated,  —  which  was  that  if  he 
were  to  be  obliged  to  leave  Staunton  he  would  see 
nothing  more  of  Beatrice  Tennant. 

He  put  his  arm  out  quickly  to  save  from  falling  a 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  33 

mite  of  a  newsboy,  in  tiniest  possible  coat  and  nether 
garments,  against  whom  he  had  run  in  his  unseeing 
stride  ahead.  The  little  fellow's  arm  went  up  auto 
matically,  offering  the  journals  he  carried  with  the 
plaintive  "  Paper,  Mister  ?  "  of  his  kind.  Manning 
shook  his  head  abstractedly,  and  went  on.  He  himself 
had  been,  not  a  score  of  years  before,  just  such  an  one 
as  this  youngster,  selling  papers  around  the  same  town, 
then  a  dirty,  wretched  collection  of  crazy  shacks  and 
tenements.  And  that  had  been  in  the  days  when  he 
had  sometimes  played  with  another  child  of  his  own 
age  —  Tennant's  daughter,  over  whom  his  mother  was 
given  charge  during  the  hours  of  the  father's  absence. 
Though  Beatrice  was  motherless,  Tennant  had  seen  to 
it  that  she  was  not  neglected.  He  had  been  strict  with 
her,  keeping  her  out  of  the  streets  and  early  discour 
aging  friendships  with  the  workmen's  children  and 
families. 

Manning,  thinking  of  this  and  many  other  not  un 
related  things,  was  brought  back  to  the  present  by 
hearing  himself  spoken  to.  Four  or  five  men  were 
standing  together  on  the  sidewalk,  and  one  of  them, 
whose  name  was  Lockhart,  had  called  him.  They 
were  in  front  of  a  restaurant  and  cigar-stand,  which 
was  kept  by  a  woman  known  as  Mrs.  Halloran,  though 
Halloran  himself  was  a  fact  of  the  past,  whose  exist 
ence  and  demise  had  to  be  taken  upon  her  word.  Mrs. 
Halloran's  daughter,  a  not  unattractive  girl,  thin,  black- 


34  CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD 

haired,  and  blue-eyed,  and  of  obviously  slatternly  habits, 
usually  tended  the  cigar-stand.  She  was  there  now, 
seated  on  a  high  stool  behind  the  counter  and  busy 
with  a  piece  of  crocheting.  Lockhart  motioned  to 
Manning  to  join  him  and  the  others.  He  was  a  tall, 
loose-jointed,  big-boned  fellow  of  about  thirty,  by  occu 
pation  a  roller,  and  among  those  who  had  that  morning 
been  discharged  from  the  mills.  Beside  him  was  a  man 
who  had  come  into  Staunton  recently,  but  was  not  em 
ployed  at  the  plant  and  had  no  apparent  occupation. 
Manning,  who  had  met  him  before,  nevertheless  knew 
him  to  be  what  he  was,  an  organizer  sent  by  the 
union,  but  who  was  not  yet  ready  to  openly  declare 
himself. 

Immediately  upon  Manning's  joining  the  group  the 
organizer  proposed  that  the  six  of  them  go  to  the  sa 
loon  at  the  corner  for  the  discussion  of  certain  matters 
becoming  of  increasing  importance.  It  was  something 
to  Lockhart's  surprise  that  Manning  did  not  refuse. 
He  knew  it  not  to  be  the  latter's  habit  to  frequent 
the  bar-rooms  in  Staunton.  But  though  Manning 
had  agreed  to  come  into  this  one,  insistence  upon  the 
part  of  the  union  envoy  could  not  make  him  drink. 
Was  it  against  his  principles  ?  the  man  asked,  with  the 
humoring  half -contempt  commonly  in  the  question. 

"Not  at  a  later  hour  of  the  day,"  said  Manning, 
briefly  and  good-humoredly.  The  organizer,  possessed 
of  the  natural  gift  for  knowing  his  man  which  had 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  35 

made  him  successful  in  his  line  of  work,  refrained  from 
following  it  up.  Lockhart  laughed  shortly  and  with  a 
note  not  pleasing  to  Manning. 

The  other  proceeded  directly  to  the  business  he  had 
on  hand,  —  plans  of  campaign  for  unionizing  the  plant. 
It  was  evident  that  he  had  already  been  over  them  with 
Lockhart  and  at  least  two  of  the  men  at  the  table,  and 
further,  that  he  had  to  a  certain  extent  constituted  the 
roller  a  lieutenant.  He  had  a  system  of  picketing  and 
missionary  work  mapped  out,  whereby  all  the  steel 
workers  were  to  be  approached  and  persuaded  into 
joining  the  union.  He  had,  too,  already  arranged  it  so 
completely  to  his  own  satisfaction  that  Manning  should 
take  a  leader's  part  in  the  work,  that  he  failed  at  first 
to  read  the  indication  of  the  silence  which  met  him. 

"  Now  we  can  count  on  you  in  this  ?  "  —  he  put  it  con 
fidently. 

"  I  am  afraid  not,"  answered  Manning. 

Lockhart  laughed  shortly  again,  and  the  organizer 
looked  his  blank  surprise.  He  had  been  at  pains  to 
find  out  who  were  the  men  likely  to  be  useful,  to  take 
an  active  hand,  and  to  command  a  following,  and 
Manning  had  been  particularly  designated. 

"  No  ?  "  he  asked,  thrown  out  of  his  calculations  by 
the  sudden  and  totally  unexpected  check  where  he  had 
looked  for  furthering  enthusiasm,  —  for  was  not  this 
man  one  of  the  first  accessions,  and  perhaps  the  most 
important  ?  "  No  ?  But  why  not  ?  " 


36  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

"Well,"  said  Manning,  deliberately,  "principally 
because  I'd  have  sent  about  his  business  pretty  quick 
anybody  who  had  come  interfering  with  me  and  trying 
to  make  me  act  in  his  way.  I'll  have  to  give  others  the 
same  liberty  I'd  have  stood  for  in  my  own  case."  But 
had  not  Manning  been  brought  over  himself?  "Not 
by  having  anybody  hunt  me  up  or  follow  me  around," 
he  answered,  with  a  slow  smile  at  the  thought  of  what 
the  result  of  some  one's  doing  so  might  have  been. 

"  Then  what  —  "  began  the  organizer,  and  hesitated. 

"  What  did  bring  me  over  ?  "  Manning  helped  him 
out.  "  Well,  I  looked  into  it ;  and  when  I  wanted 
to  know  anything,  I  went  and  asked.  If  any  of  the 
men  want  to  know  anything,  they  can  come  to  me  and 
ask.  I'll  tell  them.  I  think  I  can  give  them  good 
reasons  for  joining  us.  It  had  to  be  good  ones  that 
would  convert  me.  Or,"  he  added,  "I'll  speak  in 
public  whenever  you  want  me  to.  I've  had  some  prac 
tice  at  that  sort  of  thing  in  political  meetings." 

Lockhart  suggested  with  running  interjections  of 
unimpassioned  profanity  that  the  ranks  of  the  unions 
would  never  be  swelled  to  formidable  proportions  if  the 
common  attitude  were  that  which  Manning  saw  fit  to 
take. 

The  organizer,  fearful  of  the  effect  Lockhart's  tone 
might  have  upon  Manning's  temper,  interposed  more 
persuasively  that  not  every  man  was  capable  of  forming 
his  own  ideas,  nor  yet  had  the  time  to  give  for  doing 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  37 

so.  "  There  has  got  to  be  missionary  work  done,"  he 
reasoned. 

"  Certainly," —  Manning  granted  it  willingly  and  with 
conviction,  —  "  but  I  am  not  cut  out  to  do  it." 

Lockhart,  all  of  whose  latent  meanness  a  glass  of  the 
spirits  which  he  rarely  took  could  be  trusted  to  bring 
upon  the  surface,  gave  the  curt,  sneering  laugh  once 
again,  and  unmindful  of  the  look  coming  upon  Man 
ning's  face,  uttered  some  sarcasms  which  lost  the  fine 
ness  of  their  edge  in  the  heat  of  his  exasperation. 
"  What  are  you  cut  out  for,  Neil  ? "  he  finished, 
growing  altogether  reckless  in  enjoyment  of  his  own 
wit.  "  To  loaf  around  with  psalm-singing  ministers 
and  sit  up  and  fetch  and  carry  for  old  Tennant's 
daughter  in  hopes  she'll  put  him  on  to  giving  you  a 
raise  ?  " 

When  he  stopped,  he  was  a  little  dismayed  at  the 
effect  of  his  words.  Manning  was  looking  at  him 
steadily,  with  eyes  which  had  grown  bleak  gray 
beneath  the  straight  line  of  brows.  Very  slowly  he 
pushed  his  chair  a  little  away  from  the  table  and  turned 
around  until  he  faced  Lockhart. 

"  If  that  is  meant  to  be  funny,  you  had  better  say  so 
now,"  he  advised,  "  and  then  —  never  repeat  it." 

Lockhart,  who  had,  in  point  of  fact,  intended  it  for 
malicious  humor,  and  had  not  reckoned  upon  the  con 
sequence,  was,  nevertheless,  not  inclined  to  be  brought 
to  account  in  this  fashion.  He  was  innocent  of  any 


38  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

suspicion  that  to  have  handled  Beatrice  Tennant's  name 
without  respect  was  his  real  offence,  and  there  did  not 
seem  to  him  sufficient  cause  for  Manning's  sudden  and 
black  anger.  His  lip  rose  at  one  side  in  a  smile  which 
had  the  unfortunate  effect  of  a  sneer.  He  had  a  repu 
tation  for  being  not  only  unafraid  of  a  fight,  but  ready 
to  court  one,  and  his  prowess  with  the  huge  fists  at 
the  ends  of  his  long,  loose-hung  arms  was  his  standing 
boast.  As  a  consequence,  he  was  not  willing  to  back 
down  if  he  could  make  Manning  seem  to  do  so.  But 
Manning  had  got  up  from  his  chair,  carefully  put  it 
back  at  the  table,  as  one  who  does  all  things  decently 
and  in  order,  and  now  he  went  around  beside  him. 
No  one  had  yet  offered  to  interfere.  They  were  not 
pleasant  to  tamper  with,  these  two  men,  each  giving, 
in  a  different  way,  the  impression  of  a  deadly  strength. 

"  Well  ?  "  demanded  Manning.  His  voice  was  so 
low  that  the  word  could  be  better  guessed  than  heard. 

Lockhart  still  calculated.  He  thought  of  fighting. 
But  he  was  not  keen  to  do  it,  —  not  unless  there  should 
be  something  in  it,  or  unless  he  were  himself  more 
enraged  than  he  was  now.  At  present  he  was  too  cool 
to  feel  like  plunging  into  blows,  and  he  was  at  a 
disadvantage  in  having  remained  seated.  Manning, 
standing  above  him  and  close,  had  to  be  looked  up  to. 
Lockhart  hesitated  only  an  instant  longer  ;  then,  as  he 
felt  on  his  shoulder  the  grip  of  a  hand  heavy  and 
strong  as  iron,  he  saved  his  bravado  with  an  outburst 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WOULD  39 

of  curses,  in  tenor  a  request  to  be  told  what  manner 
of  fool  Manning  might  be  that  he  could  not  take  a 
friend's  joke.  The  hand  was  lifted  from  his  shoulder. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  Manning,  in  a  level  voice,  which 
was  far  from  amicable  yet,  however.  "But  don't  try 
that  particular  joke  again." 

Lockhart  tried  to  turn  the  laugh  against  Manning  as 
thin-skinned,  but  without  success.  The  latter  went 
back  to  his  chair,  and  after  a  few  minutes  more  of 
desultory  discussion  upon  union  matters  the  unofficial 
meeting  broke  up.  Lockhart  and  the  organizer  went 
off  together,  and  Manning  kept  on  to  the  red-brick 
house  where  he  had  his  room. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Pour  les  peuples,  comme  pour  les  individus,  la  chance  du 
developpement  le  plus  varie,  le  plus  complet,  la  chance  d'un 
progres  dans  toutes  les  directions,  et  d'un  progres  indefini,  cette 
chance  compense  h  elle  seule,  tout  ce  qu'il  peut  couter  pour  avoir 
le  droit  de  la  courir. 

For  a  people,  as  for  individuals,  the  chance  for  the  most  varied 
and  complete  development,  the  chance  to  progress  in  all  directions, 
and  to  progress  indefinitely  —  this  chance  in  itself  alone,  compen 
sates  for  all  that  it  may  cost  to  have  the  right  to  take  it. 

—  GUIZOT.    Histoire  de  la  Civilisation  en  Europe. 

LATER  in  the  day,  Manning  betook  himself  to  the 
house  of  Kemble,  an  Englishman,  who  until  that  morn 
ing  had  been  a  heater  at  the  mills,  but  was  now  among 
those  discharged.  The  house  was  in  one  of  the  better 
streets,  —  an  ugly  little  two-story  affair  of  brick  and 
drab-painted  wood,  redeemed  to  some  extent  by  the 
garden  in  front  of  it.  From  early  spring  until  late 
in  the  autumn,  Kemble,  working  in  the  yard  at  spare 
moments,  kept  it  one  of  the  most  attractive  spots  in 
Staunton,  —  a  patch  of  sweet-scented  early  blossoms  or 
of  gorgeous  late  color,  which  even  the  soot  could  not 
entirely  dull. 

Kemble's  wife  opened  the  door.  She  led  Manning 
into  the  small  parlor,  close-smelling  and  almost  dark. 

40 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  41 

The  curtains  she  put  up,  but  the  windows  remained 
closed,  to  the  discomfort  of  Manning,  who  had  a  pre 
dilection  for  fresh  air.  Kemble  came  shuffling  down 
the  stairs  with  indeterminate  footfalls,  the  suggestion 
of  which  was  added  to  by  as  indeterminate  a  cough  at 
almost  regular  intervals.  His  work  had  brought  on 
its  frequent  result,  and  the  cough  and  his  hollow- 
chested,  gaunt  figure  foretold  that  his  days  could 
hardly  be  many  more.  He  had  already  reached  his 
fiftieth  year,  but  his  beard  was  gray  and  he  looked 
much  older  than  he  was.  His  young  and  very  hand 
some  wife  was  held  to  have  a  good  chance  —  not  too 
remote  —  of  freedom  from  the  irksome  affection  of  an 
elderly  husband  whom  she  unmistakably  did  not 
cherish. 

Mrs.  Kemble  had  spoken  at  once  of  her  husband's 
discharge  from  the  mills,  and  she  had  kept  to  the 
subject,  evidently  much  disturbed  by  the  event.  But 
Kemble's  first  question  was  for  Steinberg. 

"  He  is  dead,"  Manning  reported.  "  He  died  early 
this  morning." 

Kemble  stroked  his  square  beard  and  coughed 
mournfully.  "It  is  too  bad,"  he  said,  "too  bad. 
And  is  there,"  he  asked,  "  a  wife  —  or  children  ? " 

Manning  told  him. 

"Then  Tennant  will  probably  have  her  looked  after 
—  and  the  child,  when  it  comes?"  Kemble's  speech 
usually  took  the  form  of  questions.  He  was  not  asser- 


42  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

tive  or  definite.  "  Tennant  —  "  he  went  on,  voicing 
the  simple  wisdom  which,  in  spite  of  his  mental 
timidity,  gave  his  words  weight  among  his  fellow- 
workmen — u  Tennant  is  one  of  them  as  will  give  four 
times  over  in  charity  what  he  won't  agree,  if  he  can 
help  himself,  to  letting  any  one  have  as  a  right.  He 
founds  a  hospital,  but  he  won't  run  three  turns.  And 
he  keeps  an  accident  fund  very  likely  bigger  than  the 
one  he  uses  at  the  legislature  to  stop  the  adoption  of  a 
practical  employer's  liability  act." 

Tennant's  proceedings  at  the  state  capital  were 
hardly  a  secret. 

"  It  makes  you  feel  a  better  fellow  to  give  a  man 
a  dollar  than  a  prerogative,"  he  added  musingly. 
After  all,  though,  he  asked,  dubious  of  his  judgment 
as  possibly  too  severe  on  Tennant,  had  it  not  been  the 
crane-man's  fault  —  the  accident  ? 

The  crane-man  had  thrown  the  wrong  switch  Man 
ning  agreed,  and  his  decisive  manner  of  speech  was 
in  marked  contrast  to  that  of  the  heater. 

"  But  he  was  just  out  of  the  hospital,  and  he  had 
been  at  work  eleven  and  a  half  hours,  poor  devil. 
When  he  saw  the  accident,  he  went  all  to  pieces. 
They  had  to  get  him  out  of  the  cage  and  away 
from  the  mill.  He  was  in  a  bad  state."  Manning 
was  not  afraid  of  passing  severe  judgment.  And  he 
did  so  now. 

"  The   man  who  works  his  employees  twelve  hours 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WOKLD  43 

out  of  twenty-four  is  morally  responsible  for  the 
accidents  they  cause  at  the  end  of  shifts." 

Some  one  came  up  the  garden  walk  and  rang  the  bell. 
Going  to  the  door  was  not  in  the-  list  of  duties  of  the 
little  servant  whom  the  Kembles  kept,  though  it  was 
a  work  of  supererogation  which  she  sometimes  took 
upon  herself.  At  present,  perhaps  because  she  fore 
saw  impending  dismissal  in  view  of  Kemble's  loss  of 
work,  she  showed  no  intention  of  answering  the  ring. 
It  came  again.  Mrs.  Kemble  sat  where  she  was,  her 
handsome  face  expressing  nothing,  not  even  that  she 
heard.  Kemble  glanced  at  her  with  mild  interro 
gation,  then  rose,  coughing,  and  shuffled  out  of  the 
room.  Mrs.  Kemble  had  been  silent  ever  since  he 
had  come  down,  her  pale  blue  eyes  watching  Man 
ning  from  under  their  heavy  white  lids.  Now  she 
spoke.  It  was  again  of  her  husband's  discharge. 
She  seemed  to  take  it  hard,  to  look  forward  with 
angry  dread  to  the  probability  of  a  long  period  dur 
ing  which  no  wages  would  come  in.  Kemble  was 
out  of  the  room  for  some  time,  and  Manning  found 
himself  obliged  to  talk  to  her  while  he  waited. 

Though  he  was  a  friend  of  her  husband's,  he  did  not 
like  Mrs.  Kemble.  Possibly,  indeed,  it  was  exactly 
because  he  was  Kemble's  friend,  and  could  not  but 
resent  the  wife's  attitude  toward  the  good  old  man 
who  humbly  adored  her. 

But  indifference  is  apt  to  be  a  vacuum   into  which 


44  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD 

affection  rushes,  and  Mrs.  Kemble  had  already  showed 
a  readiness  to  be  less  cold  to  Manning  than  she  was 
to  her  lawful  master.  Manning  had  not  been  oblivi 
ous  to  the  fact.  He  rarely  troubled  to  look  at  her  ; 
but  he  was  aware,  nevertheless,  that  she  watched  him 
untiringly  from  the  thin,  cold  streak  of  blue  which 
usually  represented  her  eyes.  Since  he  had  begun  to 
observe  it,  he  had  gone  less  frequently  than  usual  to 
Kemble's  home.  Mrs.  Kemble  spoke  of  this  now  in 
her  low,  distinct  voice,  which  was  always  in  the  same 
tone,  even  as  the  handsome  face  with  its  regular, 
classic  features  was  always  in  the  same  expression. 

"  I  have  been  working  twelve  hours  a  day,  going  to 
night  classes  three  times  a  week  and  reading,  writing, 
and  studying  most  of  the  other  four  nights,"  he  told 
her,  stating  facts  rather  than  seeming  to  oiler  a  justi 
fication.  He  chose  to  make  no  reference  to  having 
kept  enough  leisure  to  be  with  Lester  now  and  then, 
or  to  go  for  long  tramps  into  the  country  upon  his 
free  Sundays  —  since,  despite  his  friendship  with  the 
clergyman,  he  did  not  frequent  the  church. 

"  You  must  not  study  too  hard,"  Mrs.  Kemble  said, 
and  it  was  not  her  voice  which  betrayed  anxiety  for 
him  ;  it  was  the  quick  quiver  of  a  corner  of  her  mouth — 
less  controlled  than  were  the  other  muscles  of  the  face, 
framed  in  its  mass  of  dull  red  hair,  parted  down  over 
the  ears. 

Manning  smiled.     It  had  not  seemed  to  hurt  him  ; 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  45 

he  put  it  by.  But  it  was  an  unfortunate  speech,  for 
it  drew  her  eyes  to  him,  made  her  realize  afresh  his 
youth  and  strength.  And  the  eyes,  small  and  only 
half  opened  though  they  were,  grew  intense  with 
feeling. 

"  I  have  read  all  you  have  written,"  she  said.  The  re 
pression  could  be  felt  as  something  almost  tangible. 

There  were  papers  and  magazines  of  no  very  consider 
able  circulation,  which  concerned  themselves  chiefly 
with  economic  or  mechanical  questions,  to  which  he 
contributed  from  time  to  time.  He  had  no  more  faith 
in  Mrs.  Kemble's  mental  ability  than  he  had  in  that 
of  most  women.  "  You  must  have  found  it  dry  read 
ing  then,"  he  told  her  carelessly. 

Whether  or  no  she  was  repulsed  by  his  persistent 
refusal  to  respond  to  the  feeling  which  for  the  first 
time  had  evidently  all  but  mastered  her,  he  could  not 
tell,  for  Kemble  came  back  into  the  room.  And 
presently  he  himself  went  away. 

He  had  some  business  to  attend  to  in  the  city,  and 
he  went  down  to  the  corner  beyond  the  Kemble  house 
to  take  the  car.  As  he  rode,  he  thought  of  the  dan 
gerous  frame  of  mind  into  which  the  woman  was  work 
ing  herself.  He  did  not  like  it.  He  was  Kemble's 
friend,  and,  moreover,  he  feared  she  would  be  difficult 
to  manage.  Though  he  disliked  her,  she  was  too 
handsome  to  be  altogether  repellent.  The  magnifi 
cent  in  form  and  color  had  its  effect  upon  him. 


46  CAPTAINS   OF   THE    WORLD 

Years  of  familiarity  with  the  splendor  of  the  hot 
metals  and  fire  displays  in  the  mills  had  not  dulled 
his  pleasure  in  them.  A  thorough  understanding 
of  all  the  hard,  calculating  meanness  of  Mrs.  Kemble's 
character  did  not  counteract  the  fact  that  she  was 
beautiful,  with  an  opulent,  sheer  physical  beauty  which 
made  him  wonder  sometimes  what  might  be  the 
Oriental  or  far  southern  strain  in  her  blood.  And 
there  was  a  drawing  power,  of  a  kind,  in  her  self- 
repression  and  taciturnity.  Its  very  force  told  the 
possible  recklessness  beneath.  She  was  decidedly  a 
good  person  to  avoid. 

He  put  her  out  of  his  mind  forthwith,  and  then  fell 
after  a  time  to  thinking  again,  as  he  had  that  morning, 
as  he  habitually  did,  of  another  woman,  in  every  re 
spect  the  reverse  of  Mrs.  Kemble. 

When  he  had  been  only  a  boy  of  nineteen,  in  years, 
though  already  a  man  in  point  of  maturity  and  build, 
Beatrice  Tennant  had  first  come  into  his  life  as  an  in 
fluence.  It  was  true  that  he  had  known  her  as  a  child 
and  playmate  ;  but  he  had,  in  the  time  between  then  and 
her  return  from  school,  to  all  intents  forgotten  her.  In 
the  meanwhile  she  had  changed  from  a  little  girl  only 
fairly  pretty  to  a  young  woman,  still  with  no  real 
beauty,  but  with  a  grace  and  charm  of  manner  beyond 
the  ordinary.  He  had  been  thrown  with  her,  in  a  way 
which  could  not  otherwise  have  been,  at  the  classes  and 
clubs  that  Lester  ran  for  the  benefit  of  any  one  in 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  47 

Staunton  who  chose  to  profit  by  them  —  regardless  of 
creed  or  lack  thereof.  When  he  had  been  on  night- 
turns  and  so  at  leisure  for  part  of  the  day,  he  had  not 
infrequently  given  the  clergyman  a  helping  hand  with 
the  boys  and  young  men.  Beatrice  was  the  assistant 
with  the  women.  And  there  was  a  class  of  small 
children  which  both  he  and  she  had  often  managed 
together.  Lester's  house  was  also  a  settlement  build 
ing  upon  a  small  scale,  and  it  was  there  the  clubs  usu 
ally  met. 

Almost  from  the  first  he  had  had  to  admit  to  himself 
that  the  thing  of  all  others  which  he  would  have  wished 
to  avoid  had  befallen  him.  He  had  come  to  love,  with 
all  the  force  of  the  imaginative  and  ideal  which  can  be 
in  the  elemental  nature,  this  girl  who  could  never  by 
any  possibility  descend  to  him. 

From  Lester  he  had  learned  and  profited  by  much 
which  no  books  —  and  certainly  none  of  his  other  asso 
ciates  —  could  have  taught  him.  Not  with  the  flexibil 
ity  of  a  weak  character,  but  with  the  determination  of 
a  strong  one,  he  had  adapted  himself  to  the  ways  of 
Lester's  personal  habits,  actions,  and  speech.  He  had 
even  to  an  extent  observed  and  copied  the  essentials  of 
the  latter's  dress,  for  the  clergyman  did  not  wear  the 
clerical  garb.  As  a  consequence,  he  was  outwardly 
superior  even  among  an  already  superior  class  of  work- 
ingmen,  and  there  were  many  among  the  mill  owners 
who  were  far  from  being  his  equal.  He  knew  this. 


48  CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD 

Yet  he  knew,  too,  that  no  villein  of  feudal  days  could 
have  been  farther  removed  from  the  daughter  of  his 
liege  lord  than  was  he  himself  from  Beatrice  Tennant. 
A  matter  of  a  half-dozen  years,  a  matter  of  great 
wealth,  had  separated  them  so  completely  that  for  her 
to  have  loved  him  would  have  been  stooping  to  a  pecul 
iarly  unpleasant  disgrace.  He  had  indulged  himself  in 
some  little  consideration  of  the  nature  of  a  democracy 
wherein-  such  could  be  the  fact.  But  that  it  was  a  fact 
he  accepted. 

"  When  you  marry  —  "  had  said  Lester  to  him,  upon 
one  occasion. 

"  I  will  not  marry,"  he  had  answered.  And  Lester, 
who  never  treated  him  as  a  boy,  did  not  display  incre 
dulity  at  that  final  decision  of  a  youth  of  one-and- 
twenty. 

In  the  ambitious  plans  he  had  had  for  advancing 
there  had  never  been  any  thought  of  his  being  en 
abled  thereby  to  raise  himself  to  Beatrice.  He  had 
known  that  by  the  time  he  should  have  reached  a  posi 
tion  even  distantly  approaching  such  an  one  as  she 
could  share,  she  would,  to  a  certainty,  be  already  mar 
ried.  Yet  he  had  meant,  nevertheless,  to  advance  — 
and  that  here,  in  the  company.  It  was  with  the  end 
steadily  in  view  that  he  had  set  himself  to  study  along 
the  lines  of  his  work  and  had  managed  to  obtain  op 
portunities  for  practical  experiment  in  mechanics  and 
metallurgy.  It  had  taken  self-denial  of  many  sorts  — 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD  49 

even  that  of  the  sleep  and  rest  his  brain  and  body 
ached  for  after  long  hours  of  hard  toil ;  but  he  had  had 
as  encouragement  the  example  of  almost  every  member 
of  the  company,  comparatively  young  men  all  of  them, 
and  all  worth  large  fortunes.  They  had,  without  ex 
ception,  risen  from  the  lowest  places  in  the  different 
plants,  and  though  generally  not  from  the  sphere  of 
the  skilled  workman,  yet  such  were  not  necessarily 
debarred. 

Then,  upon  a  day  unlucky  for  such  ambitions,  his 
reading  had  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  history  and 
aims  of  trades-unions.  He  had  not  taken  it  up  with 
any  idea  of  a  possible  conversion,  merely  in  a  desire  to 
know  something  regarding  what  was  probably  the  most 
vital  question  of  the  times  —  and  like  most  vital  ques 
tions,  the  most  beset  with  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
judgment.  Until  then  he  had  been,  indeed,  rather 
inclined  to  share  the  company's  prejudice  against  the 
association  of  workingmen.  He  had  looked  upon  it,  at 
best,  as  good  only  for  such  as  expected  to  remain  in 
the  labor  ranks  to  the  end  of  their  days.  For  himself, 
he  had  preferred  to  keep  his  personal  independence  — 
to  work  or  refuse  to  work  for  whom  or  for  what  he 
should  see  fit,  and  to  subscribe  to  no  code  which  made 
for  the  individual's  bondage  to  obtain  a  class  freedom. 

As  he  had  read,  however,  the  long  record  of  achieve 
ment  against  almost  hopeless  odds,  of  betterment  and 
education,  the  theories  underlying  it  all  had  struck 


50  CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD 

him  as  tenable.  Then  they  had  appealed  to  his  sense 
of  logic  and  justice,  which  was  not  to  be  biased  by 
the  fact  that  there  had  been  connected  with  the  move 
ment  —  sometimes  seemingly  inseparable  from  it  — 
much  of  the  violence  and  fanaticism,  much  of  the 
rabid  insistence  upon  letter  and  ignoring  of  spirit, 
from  which  no  great  world  movement,  certainly  not 
Christianity  itself,  had  been  exempt. 

He  had  realized  that  he  was  forming  convictions 
which,  if  lived  up  to,  must  put  an  end  to  all  his  present 
plans.  He  began  to  see  it  as  very  little  creditable  to 
himself  that  he  profited  in  all  his  daily  life  from  wages 
and  conditions  obtained  so  hardly  by  adherents  to  the 
very  cause  he  turned  his  back  upon.  And  at  length  he 
had  talked  over  the  whole  subject  with  Lester.  The 
latter  had  held  before  him  what  it  must  mean  for  him 
to  join  the  association  of  his  trade,  to  identify  himself 
with  the  class. 

"  I  should  say  that  if  I  did  not,"  he  had  answered, 
"  I  would  be  about  on  a  par  with  a  citizen  of  a  country 
who  accepts  all  the  benefits  of  its  government  and  pro 
tection,  but  refuses  to  help  in  the  governing  even  by 
going  to  the  polls  or  giving  war  service." 

Lester  had  urged  union  abuses.  Manning  dismissed 
it  as  the  weakling  complaint  of  the  man  who  bemoans 
the  maladministration  of  his  town,  and  hugs  himself 
for  his  virtue  in  keeping  aloof  from  it,  instead  of 
throwing  his  force  for  the  work  of  betterment.  "  Be- 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  51 

sides,"  he  added,  "  I  am  inclined  to  think,  from  what  I 
can  make  of  it,  that  labor  riots  would  be  worse  without 
union  influence.  The  percentage  of  violence  in  organ 
ized  strikes  is  very  small  and  growing  smaller.  The 
unions  discourage  it,  theoretically  and  in  fact.  There 
was,"  he  asserted,  "  a  time  in  the  history  of  unions 
when  resort  to  force  was  justifiable  —  exactly  as  any 
other  rebellions  against  oppression  have  been  ;  but  the 
time  has  passed,  and  the  best  leaders  know  it." 

"  It  will  put  an  end  to  all  your  aspirations,"  Lester 
had  warned. 

"  It  ought  not  to  —  though  I  suppose  it  will,"  Man 
ning  had  agreed.  "  But  then,  I  have  been  forming 
others.  To  be  a  leader  of  the  working  classes  need  not 
be  so  poor  an  ambition  after  all.  And  it  is  at  least 
as  worthy  as  the  one  to  simply  get  rich  for  riches'  sake." 

Then,  had  inquired  Lester,  it  was  his  intention  to 
lead? 

"  I  mean  to  try  to,  certainly,  unless  good  reasons  turn 
up  against  it.  It  seems  to  me  that  giving  labor 
right  leading  is  a  thing  that  needs  to  be  done.  It 
is  an  important  part  of  the  world's  work  which  is 
pretty  generally  shirked.  If  I  were  to  see  something 
at  the  mills  which  wanted  doing  and  was  being  neg 
lected,  I'd  do  it  or  see  that  it  got  done,  not  for  love 
of  the  owners  or  the  men,  but  because  the  thing  was 
there  to  be  attended  to.  It  is  about  the  way  this  ques 
tion  seems  to  me." 


52  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

Lester  had  cautioned  against  being  led  away  by  the 
first  enthusiastic  impulse,  and  had  obtained  a  promise  of 
six  months'  delay  before  the  taking  of  any  definite  step. 
It  was  to  be  remembered,  too,  he  counselled,  that  the 
interests  of  labor  could  be  worked  for  from  the  top  even 
more  effectually  than  from  the  bottom. 

Manning  did  not  quibble  over  the  manner  of  putting 
it,  but  he  denied  the  assertion  flatly.  "  No  — they  can 
not.  At  any  rate  they  never  have  been,  and  probably 
never  will  be,  unless  it  is  in  exceptional  cases.  Vicari 
ous  improvement  don't  do  any  real  good.  The  lower 
classes  have  got  to  raise  themselves  if  they  are  to  get 
any  genuine  benefit.  If  men  go  on  strike  for,  say, 
shorter  hours,  and  win  out  through  a  lot  of  suffering, 
they  are  a  long  way  ahead  of  where  they'd  have  been 
if  some  philanthropic  master  had  given  them  the  con 
cession  without  their  having  to  try  for  it." 

Lester  had,  in  the  end,  tempered  what  he  feared  might 
be  the  discouraging  effects  of  much  that  he  had  said, 
with  the  assurance  that  whatever  Manning  should  ulti 
mately  decide  to  do,  he  had  better  be  at  the  end  of  his 
life  still  a  workingman,  and  true  to  his  convictions,  than 
many  times  a  millionnaire  with  a  record  of  shirked  ideals 
behind  him. 

And  the  six  months  of  waiting  having  passed,  Man 
ning  had  taken  the  proposed  step.  His  dismissal  had, 
as  he  had  foreseen,  immediately  followed. 

In  the  city,  when  he  reached  it  now,  he  bought  an 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  53 

evening  paper.  It  had  the  news  of  the  morning's  acci 
dent  at  the  mills.  It  had  also  the  account  of  his  own 
discharge  and  that  of  Kemble,  Lockhart,  and  the  other 
two  suspects. 

The  latter  affair  was  given  an  importance  he  had  not 
expected.  It  was  considered  less  for  itself  than  as  a 
premonition  of  what  might  follow.  The  men  who  had 
been  turned  off  were,  it  was  held,  among  the  most 
prominent,  steady,  and  reliable  in  Stauuton.  Several 
of  them  had  grown  up  in  the  plant  of  that  town.  Their 
conversion  was  significant ;  a  fair  indication  that  the 
long-suppressed  union  propaganda  might  now  spread 
rapidly.  And  since  the  discharged  men  were  popular 
and  leaders  of  sentiment  among  their  fellows,  it  was 
not  unlikely  that  many  would  join  them  personally, 
who  might  never,  otherwise,  have  joined  the  associa 
tion. 

******* 

That  such  was  to  be  the  case  the  next  few  weeks 
made  clear.  A  number  of  dismissals  followed  upon 
the  first.  There  developed  among  the  men  the  cer 
tainty  that  spies  were  at  work.  Resentment  and 
bad  feeling  grew,  and  helped  the  missionary  work 
which  was  going  on  systematically  for  the  unions. 
Lockhart  threw  himself  into  the  fight  with  vindictive 
purpose.  Kemble  worked,  but  less  vigorously,  and 
Manning  was  kept  busy  answering  questions.  Upon 
two  occasions  he  spoke  at  small  open  meetings,  and 


54  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

each  time  thereafter  accessions  were  more  than  usually 
numerous. 

At  the  end  of  something  over  a  fortnight  the  Staun- 
ton  plant  was  crippled.  Few  new  men  appeared  to  fill 
the  many  vacancies.  Although  some  were  taken  from 
the  company's  other  mills,  certain  departments  had 
soon  to  be  shut  down.  The  company  determined  to 
stand  by  the  principles  it  had  acquired  at  a  heavy 
price  ;  yet  faithful  to  its  loyal  men,  tried  to  run  some 
other  departments  short-handed. 

But  the  discharged  men,  feeling  themselves  now 
sufficiently  strong  and  numerous  to  take  an  open  posi 
tion,  joined  together  for  the  organization  of  an  advisory 
committee.  The  committee  appointed  Lockhart  its 
chairman  and  proceeded  definitely  to  action.  With 
threats  or  by  a  severe  moral  compulsion,  most  of  the 
workmen,  mechanics,  and  laborers  still  in  the  mills 
were  brought  out,  and  the  company,  unable  longer 
to  run  the  plant,  announced  that  it  would  shut 
down. 


CHAPTER  V 

Helas !  quel  est  Pamour  ou  il  n'y  a  pas  d'egoisme  ?  Quel  est 
celui  d'entre  nous  qui  aime  uniquement  pour  1'objet  aime"? 

Alas !  what  love  is  there  in  which  is  no  selfishness  ?  Where 
among  us  is  he  who  loves  only  the  beloved? 

—  DUMAS. 

IT  was  a  figure  embodying  a  heavy  wealth  and 
luxury  which  came  slowly  out  of  the  Tennant  man 
sion  and  crossed  the  width  of  the  portico  between 
the  great  white  granite  Ionic  pillars,  —  a  figure,  every 
detail  of  whose  adornment  was  costly.  It  was  hardly 
a  question  of  the  individuality  of  her  who  wore  the 
garment  which  rippled  and  swept  out  in  silken  folds 
of  pale  tan.  Yet  so  much  of  the  face  as  showed  from 
beneath  the  plumed  black  hat  was  Beatrice  Tennant's. 
And  the  face  was  listless  and  dispirited.  All  a  casket's 
contents  of  jewels  and  chains  seemed  to  have  been 
disposed  about  the  intricate  and  exquisite  costume. 
And  the  hands,  as  yet  ungloved,  were  heavy  with 
rings.  Of  the  mere  woman  there  was  little  left  to 
heed.  The  drooping  black  hat  hid  even  her  hair, 
save  for  a  few  smooth  strands. 

She  moved  down  the  terrace  steps  to  the  carriage. 
It  was  her  own  footman  who  held  open  the  door, 

65 


56  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

a  boy  dressed  in  an  inconspicuous  covert  livery,  that 
he  might  as  little  as  possible  resemble  the  grotesque 
manikins  which  many  among  her  acquaintances  found 
satisfaction  in  parading  as  property  to  be  made  ridicu 
lous  at  their  pleasure. 

As  she  told  him  where  she  was  to  be  driven,  and  he 
took  his  place  beside  the  coachman,  she  sank  back  with 
a  movement  of  weariness  and  indifference.  The  coupe* 
went  down  the  driveway  under  the  English  elms,  and 
into  the  avenue,  the  most  beautiful  street  of  the  city  — 
upon  each  side  of  which,  extending,  far  out,  were  built 
the  houses  belonging  to  millionaires  of  overnight 
growth. 

There  recurred  to  Beatrice  a  comment  of  Valerie's. 
He  had  said  that  he  knew  no  city  more  nearly  typifying 
the  economic  conditions  of  the  age  and  country  —  for 
the  most  part  unattractive  and  sordid,  a  portion  in  the 
very  heart  squalidly  evil  and  dangerous;  and  one  or 
two  outlying  avenues  of  great,  very  new,  riches.  Why, 
upon  the  smallest  provocation,  was  she  constantly  re 
calling  his  words  and  opinions  ?  The  mental  condition 
upon  her  part  was  certainly  not  superinduced  by  a 
constant  bodily  presence  upon  his.  Though  he  was 
now  in  the  city  again,  he  had  been  away  for  some 
weeks,  and,  whether  studiously  or  instinctively,  he 
avoided  surfeiting  her  with  his  companionship.  But 
his  personality  did  not  need  to  have  recourse  to  the 
devices  of  feebler  ones,  which  must  keep  themselves 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  57 

in  sight  to  be  in  mind.  He  was  so  continually  in  the 
background  of  her  consciousness  that  any  chance  sug 
gestion  served  to  call  up  some  one  of  his  judgments  or 
estimates.  Yet  it  was  not  a  first  indication  that  she 
might  love  him.  She  was  calmly  certain  as  to  that. 
The  sincere  liking  she  had  for  him  was  not  the  ground 
sentiment  from  which  another  more  intense  could  ever 
grow  up.  Nevertheless,  there  was  no  one  whom  she 
was  at  all  times  so  content  to  have  for  a  companion,  to 
whom  she  spoke  so  freely  and  without  restraint,  sure 
that  she  would  be  understood. 

At  the  present  moment  she  was  even  aware  that  she 
had  a  distinct  desire  to  see  him  ;  a  hope  that  he  might 
be  at  the  place  to  which  she  was  herself  going,  —  an 
exhibition  of  portraits,  among  which  was  hung  her 
own.  Her  mood  was  one  with  which  only  he  could 
agree.  It  had  been  brought  about  by  a  realization  of 
her  own  utter  insignificance  in  the  working  out  of 
events.  The  sense  of  the  enormous  forces  of  human 
nature,  civilization,  and  circumstances  was  oppressing 
her.  Those  which  were  developing  at  Staunton  seemed 
to  be  beyond  the  control  of  any  one  person  or  set  of 
persons.  As  for  any  influence  she  herself  might  be  able 
to  exert  —  it  merely  did  not  exist.  After  five  years  of 
trying  to  do  her  part  to  bring  about  at  least  enough 
good  feeling  between  the  Staunton  people  and  her 
father  to  prevent  just  such  trouble  as  now  threatened, 
there  was  nothing  whatever  accomplished.  She  had 


58  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

liked  to  believe  that  she  was  really  a  factor  in  the  life 
of  this  one  small  spot.  Yet  it  was  evident  now,  that 
she  might  as  well  never  have  gone  near  it  or  have  given 
it  a  thought  for  all  the  result  apparent  at  the  first 
strain.  There  had  come  to  her  with  sudden  force  all 
the  futility  of  following  in  this  day  the  time-honored 
methods  of  benefiting  the  working  classes.  The  Lord 
or  Lady  Bountiful  was  nothing  more  or  less  than  a 
picturesque  anachronism.  Such  questions  as  were  to 
be  fought  out  in  Staunton  were  not  even  borne  upon  by 
philanthropy  —  and  ought  not  to  be.  Their  source 
was  too  fundamental  and  organic  for  any  such  easy 
surface  treatment.  And  as  nothing  more  important 
than  philanthropy  was  possible  for  a  woman,  would  it 
not  then  be  better,  simpler,  more  suitable  for  her  to  live 
out  her  own  life  —  to  a  greater  extent  than  she  had  been 
willing  to  do  heretofore — by  the  policy  of  laissez-faire?  — 
than  which,  after  all,  nothing  more  inevitable  had  been 
discovered  by  all  the  schools.  Matters  were  bound  to 
take  their  course  in  any  case.  Wherein  was  the  use 
of  concerning  herself  and  beating  against  existing  con 
ditions  in  protest  ?  Those  conditions  had  given  her 
wealth,  and  position  of  a  sort.  It  would  be  well  to 
accept  these  and  thank  that  Fortune  which  not  all  the 
struggles  or  prayers,  reasonings  or  attempted  compul 
sions  that  had  run  through  the  ages,  had  been  able  to 
make  other  than  capricious. 

And  it  was  in  this  spirit  that  she  had  dressed  with 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  59 

an  extravagance  of  value  and  detail  she  rarely  per 
mitted  herself  —  the  less  so  when,  as  now,  she  was  to 
go  down  into  the  heart  of  the  city  in  full  day.  She 
had  put  on  her  gloves,  and  the  rings  they  hid  pressed 
into  her  fingers.  In  a  case  in  front  of  her  was  a  little 
hand -mirror.  She  leaned  forward  and  took  it  out, 
looking  first  at  so  much  of  her  reflection  as  the  small 
disk  of  glass  could  show,  then  at  the  mirror  itself.  It 
was  of  gold,  with  a  jewelled  handle,  and  the  miniature 
of  a  woman's  head,  painted  upon  ivory,  set  in  the  back. 
Several  companion  pieces  were  in  the  case,  as  well  as  a 
jewel-set  carriage  clock.  Her  father  had  given  them 
all  to  her  the  year  before  as  part  of  the  coupe.  Usu 
ally  they  seemed  to  her  inexcusably,  painfully  extrava 
gant.  To-day  she  took  a  sensuous  pleasure  in  them. 
She  leaned  back  again  luxuriously,  more  than  ever  con 
scious  of  the  softness  of  the  cushions,  the  scent  of  fine 
leathers  and  faint  perfume,  the  special  isolation  from 
the  streets  and  their  people.  And  she  kept  the  mirror 
in  her  hand  until  they  were  well  into  the  business 
district. 

Then,  glancing  out  through  the  dropped  window,  she 
caught  sight  of  Durran  walking  just  ahead.  He  was 
going  fast,  as  he  always  did,  and  walking  near  the  curb 
to  avoid  the  crowd.  With  another  she  might  have  in 
ferred  haste.  As  it  was,  she  had  the  coachman  drive 
up  to  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk.  She  bent  forward  and 
spoke.  That  Durran  did  not  resent  being  made  to  lose 


60  CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WORLD 

headway,  for  this  purpose  at  any  rate,  his  face  gave 
quick  evidence. 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  see  how  my  portrait  hangs," 
she  began.  "  Have  you  time  to  go  with  me  ?  "  and 
she  made  a  gesture  toward  the  space  at  her  side.  It 
was  unmistakably  to  his  regret  that  he  was  obliged  to 
refuse. 

"  There  is  a  directors'  meeting  in  —  "he  drew  out  his 
watch  "  —  in  exactly  twelve  minutes.  I  am  afraid  I 
can't  make  it.  Much,"  he  added  with  obvious  sin 
cerity,  "  as  you  must  know  that  I  should  like  to."  It 
was  not  often  that  she  showed  him  even  this  degree  of 
favor.  His  look  went  over  her  with  plain  approval. 
Was  it,  he  asked,  that  all  beholders  might  realize  how 
inferior  to  the  living  truth  was  the  painted  present 
ment  that  she  had  made  herself  so  more  than  ever 
lovely  to-day? 

"  It  is  that  I  may  forget  my  origin  in  display  and 
pomp,  perhaps,"  she  said  in  a  half  mockery,  under  which 
was  a  tinge  of  bitterness.  She  remembered  at  once 
that  the  words  had  been  Valerie's  when  he  had  spoken 
of  the  Roman  tribune.  There  went  over  Durran's  face 
a  shade  of  dissatisfaction.  He  knew  what  that  origin 
was,  and  knew  that  others  did ;  but  he  would  have  pre 
ferred  to  have  her  commit  it,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
oblivion. 

She  left  him  standing  upon  the  sidewalk  —  a  tall, 
sinewy,  well-knit  figure,  the  typical  American  of  five- 


CAPTAINS  OF   THE  WORLD  61 

and-thirty  —  and  she  drove  on  to  the  exhibition  with 
out  him. 

It  had  opened  that  day  in  the  banquet  hall  of  one 
of  the  large  hotels;  and  the  famous  Spanish  portrait 
painter,  who  had,  for  the  time  being,  become  the  fash 
ion,  shared  the  premises  with  a  vender  of  Oriental 
rugs.  The  latter  was  using  the  floor  to  spread  forth 
his  wares.  Whether  or  no  the  artist  were  inclined  to 
fancy  the  commercial  juxtaposition,  there  could  be  no 
doubt  that  the  usually  bare  room  was  improved  and 
rendered  luxurious  by  the  deep  and  mellow  colors. 
The  dark  individual  in  charge  had  arranged  divans 
spread  with  silk  carpets,  and  had  heaped  others  less 
fine  in  texture  to  serve  as  seats.  As  Beatrice  went  in, 
stepping  from  the  tiled  corridor  upon  the  silent  carpet 
ing  —  one  thickness  of  rich  pile  laid  beneath  another  — 
she  saw  at  once  that  the  Turk's  wares  divided  honors 
with  the  artist's  canvases,  if,  indeed,  the  interest  in  the 
former  were  not  more  genuine  than  that  in  the  latter. 
Even  as  it  was,  there  were  not  many  in  the  room, 
though  the  exhibition  had  long  been  heralded.  And 
of  the  few  the  majority  were  women.  There  were  not 
a  half-dozen  men.  But  Valerio  was  among  those. 
Though  his  face  was  turned  from  her,  and  he  was  the 
length  of  the  hall  away,  Beatrice  recognized  him  in 
stantly,  if  only  by  his  erect  carriage  and  the  breadth 
of  his  shoulders,  a  trifle  too  great  for  his  height.  Here, 
at  least,  was  a  man  who  had  time  to  give  a  woman  com- 


62  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

panionship,  and  to  take  an  interest  in  that  which  was 
of  interest  to  her,  to  any  one  not  utterly  absorbed  with 
getting  wealth  and  keeping  it.  Business  and  mana 
gers'  meetings  did  not  crowd  out  all  else  in  life  for 
him.  What  though  he  were,  in  consequence,  obliged 
to  marry  with  a  view  to  obtaining  in  that  way  the 
money  he  did  not  earn?  A  wife  would  be  more  apt 
to  be  happy  with  him  than  with  the  average  work- 
possessed  American. 

She  believed  that  it  was  in  the  hope  of  finding  her 
here  that  Valeric  had  come.  As  for  the  women,  many 
were  her  acquaintances.  When  they  saw  her,  they 
came  quickly  forward,  a  small  bevy  of  girls  equally  as 
clothed  in  fine  raiment  as  herself.  And  she  regretted 
at  once  her  own  elaborate  toilet.  Had  she,  as  a  result 
of  it,  as  little  distinction  as  they  ?  Did  she  too  look  as 
rich  —  and  merely  rich?  Was  her  own  individuality 
as  obliterated  in  stuffs  and  gems  ? 

Though  she  saw  far  too  little  of  any  of  these  young 
women  to  be  able  to  count  herself  the  friend  of  one, 
there  was  manifest  upon  all  their  parts  a  warm  admira 
tion  for  her.  It  was  evident  that  had  she  but  wished 
to  take  the  trouble,  to  make  any  least  exertion,  she 
might  have  been  a  leading  spirit  among  them.  They 
spoke  of  her  portrait  in  terms  of  unmeasured  praise. 
Two  of  them  went  with  her  to  where  it  hung.  It  was 
but  one  removed  from  the  picture  of  one  Woolmer,  a 
coke  magnate,  in  painting  whom  the  subtle  Castilian 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  63 

had  amused  himself  ironically,  and  all  unsuspected  by 
either  the  sitter  or  the  general  public.  Valeric,  who 
knew  the  magnate,  had  understood,  however,  and  a 
half  smile  was  still  upon  his  face  as  he  turned  at 
the  sound  of  Miss  Tennant's  voice. 

He  went  to  Beatrice  at  once.  She  flushed  slightly 
at  the  consciousness  that  the  meeting  must  seem  pre 
arranged  to  these  others  who  were  already,  she  knew, 
observing  and  commenting  upon  the  prince  and  herself. 
That  it  did  so  was  evidenced  by  their  being  left  alone 
together  almost  at  once. 

"  I  have  been  studying  your  portrait,"  Valeric  told 
her.  "And  I  like  it  unusually  well — even  for  Sale- 
ta's  work."  She  was  represented  in  the  same  dress  in 
which  he  had  first  seen  her  in  her  home ;  but  the  back 
ground,  instead  of  being  the  deep  Indian  yellow  of  the 
drawing-room  draperies,  was  a  flat  sienna  red,  abso 
lutely  without  planes  or  shading  ;  but  although  there 
was  nothing  uncommon  in  the  standing  pose,  —  which 
showed  her  full  length,  slender  but  unusually  well 
built  for  an  American  woman,  —  there  was  a  suggestion 
of  intense  life. 

"  If  I  had  not  already  known  it,"  Valerio  went  on, 
"I  think  I  should  have  guessed  that  he  has  been 
strongly  under  the  influence  of  both  Henner  and  Chap 
lin.  The  former  seems  to  have  inspired  him,  and  the 
latter  to  have  imparted  his  method  —  though  it  is  an 
unlikely  enough  combination,  too.  The  only  trace  of 


64  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

Henner  which  appears  to  have  remained  lies  in  the 
ability  to  give  his  figures  a  quality  of  having  light  in 
themselves."  It  was  a  quality,  as  he  had  often  noticed, 
which  Beatrice  had  herself.  With  the  creamy  paleness 
of  her  skin,  the  eyes  and  hair  almost  the  same  fawn 
brown,  and  the  dress  usually  carried  out  in  tones  which 
afforded  no  contrast,  she  might  easily  have  given  the 
impression  of  something  faded  and  monochrome.  Yet 
it  was,  upon  the  contrary,  that  of  warmth  and  color. 
The  artist  had  managed  to  reproduce  this  in  an  un 
usual  degree. 

Valerio  looked  at  her  as  if  for  comparison  with  the 
portrait,  and  seemed  to  notice  for  the  first  time  that  she 
had  gone  to  the  opposite  extreme  from  her  usual  sim 
plicity  in  dress  —  a  simplicity  which  he  had,  without 
direct  words,  let  her  feel  that  he  approved.  Now  she 
was  arrayed  like  a  rich  American  woman,  or  a 
European  one  of  questionable  status.  She  saw  pass 
across  his  face  a  shade  of  inquiry  and  disappointment. 
Durran  had  been  pleased.  This  man's  discrimination 
was  finer,  and  his  very  disapproval  was  more  satis 
factory  to  her  than  the  other's  praise. 

They  went  the  circuit  of  the  room.  Many  portraits 
showed  men  and  women  whom  she  knew.  To  some  of 
the  faces  the  Spaniard's  art,  rather  more  exquisite  than 
bold,  had  imparted  its  own  refinement  for  want  of  any 
to  reproduce.  Only  in  the  coke  magnate's  case  had 
he  displayed  his  fine  vein  of  malice,  the  humorous  ap- 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  65 

preciation  which  Beatrice  did  not  perceive.  He  had 
managed  to  set  forth  upon  the  canvas,  not  only  the 
sitter's  prosperous  present,  but  his  past  —  which  was 
that  of  a  butcher's  clerk.  But  Beatrice's  eyes  were  not 
keen  to  that,  which  needed  possibly,  Valerio  could  not 
but  think,  a  longer  distance  than  she  had  travelled  from 
any  similar  past,  to  give  the  proper  focus  to  the  sight. 

"  I  had  intended,  Miss  Tennant,"  he  said,  as  they 
came  to  the  end  of  the  line,  "to  go  to  your  home  this 
afternoon." 

Her  hesitation  was  for  a  hardly  perceptible  instant, 
yet  in  that  time  she  thought  of  much.  Then  she  told 
him  that  her  carriage  was  waiting  if  he  cared  to  go 
back  with  her  now,  to  tea. 

She  had  been  enough  in  foreign  lands  to  know  that, 
even  allowing  all  latitude  for  the  American  woman's 
freedom  of  action,  she  had  committed  herself  in  his  eyes 
to  the  acceptance  of  his  suit.  But  she  took  a  refuge 
which  she  recognized  the  while  to  be  unworthy,  in  the 
counter  knowledge  that  by  the  standards  of  her  own 
people  she  had  showed  no  more  than  a  meaningless, 
almost  inevitable,  civility,  binding  her,  even  morally,  to 
nothing. 

She  waited  to  order  sent  to  her  home  a  rug,  of  price 
out  of  all  proportion  to  its  size  —  a  rich  old-ivory  color 
in  the  groundwork,  with  a  design  in  light  brown  and 
ochre.  It  would,  she  explained  to  him,  fill  a  place 
in  her  own  sitting-room.  He  found  himself  imagining 


66  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

that  room  as  it  seemed  to  him  it  must  be.  Then,  as  he 
watched  the  process  of  purchase,  in  which  she  mani 
fested  a  good  sense  as  to  value  and  a  quiet  determina 
tion  not  to  have  her  wealth  exploited,  he  thought  of 
uncarpeted  bits  in  his  own  ancestral  halls.  Would  she 
wish  to  have  the  great  salons  and  chambers  there  in  the 
shades  she  so  markedly  favored  ?  If  so,  he  would  be 
only  too  thankful  that  he  was  not  obliged  to  marry 
a  woman  who  would  choose  harsh  blues  and  glaring 
scarlets.  He  had  felt  for  some  compatriots  whom 
fiercer  stress  had  driven  to  do  so. 

As  Beatrice  moved  away  from  the  Oriental,  Valeric 
drew  her  attention  to  the  far  end  of  the  room  where 
her  own  portrait  was.  Did  she  chance  to  know,  he 
asked,  who  might  be  the  man  standing  there  ?  "  He 
came  in  a  moment  since,  looked  around  the  hall,  and 
then  went  straight  to  his  mark  with  a  directness  that 
argues  well  for  his  success  in  life.  I  inferred  that  it 
was  rather  concern  with  yourself  than  with  art  in 
general  that  brought  him  here." 

As  if  conscious  that  he  was  being  observed  and 
spoken  of,  the  man  turned.  He  saw  them,  evidently 
for  the  first  time.  His  hat  was  in  his  hand,  but  he 
bowed  gravely  to  Beatrice,  and  then  stepping  a  little 
backward  returned  to  his  survey  of  the  picture. 

"  It  is  a  workman  from  Staunton,"  she  said.  "  You 
may  have  seen  his  name  in  the  papers  recently.  It  is 
Manning  —  Neil  Manning. " 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  67 

Valerio  did  not  recall  it.  But  he  allowed  himself  a 
leading  remark  upon  the  man's  presence.  "He  has 
certainly  as  little  the  look  of  a  dilettante  as  he  has  that 
of  what  we  conservative  Europeans  usually  think  of  as 
a  workingman." 

She  gave  the  only  explanation  which  occurred  to  her, 

—  a   probable    curiosity  to  see  how  a  famous   painter 
had  portrayed  a  woman  whom  he  himself  had  known 
and  played  with  as  a  child.     The  Italian  made  no  com 
ment.     He   accepted  it  as  she  herself   very  evidently 
did,  as  having  no  significance. 

It  seemed  to  him,  as  the  carriage  rolled  softly  away, 
that  he  was  near  to  her  now  for  the  first  time  —  shut  in 
with  her,  away  from  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  breathing 
the  atmosphere  of  her  femininity.  Fate,  he  thought, 
had  been  more  good  to  him  than  he  might  have  a  right 
to  hope,  in  that  she  had  made  it  possible  for  him  to 
love  the  woman  he  could  also  marry.  He  did  love 
her ;  though  not  —  as  past  experience  had  taught  him 

—  to  the  full  extent  possible  for  his  nature. 

She  saw  that  his  eyes  rested  on  the  handle  of  the 
mirror  with  its  deep-set  topaz  and  ruby  chips.  She 
drew  it  out,  showing  him  the  miniature.  Once  she 
had  done  the  same  with  Durran,  —  the  remembrance 
came  to  her,  —  when  the  coupe  and  all  its  fittings 
had  been  a  new  possession.  Durran  had  given  a  per 
functory  glance  at  the  painting,  and  then  had  reversed 
the  mirror  at  an  angle  which  made  it  reflect  her  face, 


68  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

and  had  turned  some  compliment  to  the  more  charming 
picture  in  the  glass.  Valerio  had  recourse  to  no  such 
device.  He  never  spoke  in  compliments.  He  put  back 
the  mirror  after  a  suitable  appreciation.  "  I  had  sup 
posed,"  he  said,  "  that  you  were  a  sort  of  feminine  Marcus 
Aurelius,  living  in  simplicity  yourself  in  the  midst  of 
wealth  and  circumstance."  It  was  his  nearest  allusion  to 
her  present  appearance,  and  she  understood  it  as  such. 

"To-day,"  she  answered  more  openly,  "if  I  had  had 
the  garments  of  cloth  of  gold,  and  all  the  other  ac 
cessories,  I  should,  I  think,  have  loaded  myself  down 
after  the  manner  of  the  Roman  women  of  the  early 
Christian  centuries." 

They  drove  through  the  uncompromisingly  ugly 
business  streets,  through  the  slums  which  held  the 
very  middle  of  the  city,  and  out  again  to  where  the 
houses  began  to  present  a  little  better  appearance. 

"  It  is  not  an  attractive  city,"  she  passed  judgment 
impartially.  "Over  there" — she  motioned  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  opposite  river  bank,  which,  from  where 
they  were  at  the  moment,  was  plainly  in  view  across  a 
chasm  of  bluffs  —  "over  there  is  a  sort  of  sombre  dig 
nity  ;  but  here  we  have  not  even  that." 

Valerio  took  his  time  in  answering.  "  It  is  an 
unattractive  city,"  he  said  slowly  ;  "  yet  I  have  come 
back  to  it,  and  I  have  remained  much  longer  than 
was  needed  to  see  its  life.  Need  I  tell  why  I  have 
done  so,  Miss  Tennant?" 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  69 

There  was  a  silence,  and  in  it  he  turned  toward  her 
and  looked  in  her  face.  He  was  an  adept  at  reading 
emotions,  but  now  he  could  see  none  to  read.  "  I  have 
hoped,"  he  went  on,  "  that  I  might  take  back  to  Italy 
with  me  the  promise  that  you  would  some  day  be  my 
wife."  He  paused,  as  if  to  give  what  he  should  next 
say  the  weight  which  impetuosity  would  have  lacked. 
Then  he  added,  "  You  must  have  known,  I  think,  that 
I  love  you."  He  made  no  fervid  protestations,  but  his 
voice  carried  the  conviction  of  truth. 

She  was  under  no  illusions,  and  she  knew  that  he 
would  not  have  asked  her  to  marry  him  if  she  had  not 
had  a  rich  father ;  that  he  would  not  even  have  allowed 
himself  to  care  for  her.  Yet  why  should  she  refuse 
him  merely  because  he  wanted  her  wealth  as  well  as 
herself;  merely  because  she  did  not  love  him  as  she 
might  have  wished  to  love?  It  was  almost  certain 
that  that  wealth  would  be  more  or  less  of  a  factor  in 
any  marriage  she  might  make.  Excepting  only  Dur- 
ran,  not  one  of  the  many  men  who  had  wished  to  have 
her  had  been  above  the  suspicion  of  mercenary  motives. 
And  how  could  she  know  that  she  would  ever  love  any 
other  man  better  than  she  did  this  one,  who  was  so 
thoroughly  companionable  to  her,  with  whom  —  she 
was  convinced  of  that  —  she  would  always  be  satis 
factorily  happy  unless  some  unsuspected  depth  of 
passion  should  be  aroused  in  her  or  himself? 

Then,  too,   Italy  had  laid  its  spell  upon   her,  had 


70  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOELD 

appealed  to  one  side  of  her  character  —  that  very 
side  which  was  uppermost  to-day,  and  which  was 
capable  of  indefinite  development.  A  title  in  itself 
did  not  attract  her;  but  that  which  it  represented, 
which  went  with  it,  and  which  it  were  sheer  vulgarity 
and  mental  paucity  to  deny,  influenced  her  greatly. 

"If  you  are  willing  to  grant  me  nothing  further 
for  the  present,"  Valerio  was  saying,  "  may  I  not 
still  keep  the  hope?" 

She  temporized.  "  If  you  will  understand,"  she 
said,  "that  I  am  bound  by  that  to  no  more." 

He  had  not  asked  her  for  the  love  which  she  was 
confident  that  she  could  not,  could  never  give.  She 
doubted  if  he  would  ever  do  so. 

Was  it  only  the  Anglo-Saxon,  out  of  all  the  nations, 
who  demanded  in  his  bride  at  least  some  love  to  meet 
his  own  ?  With  the  rest  of  mankind  it  might  be  that 
an  unimpassioned  affection  —  at  the  best  —  sufficed. 
That,  she  believed,  she  would  be  able  to  give  Valerio. 


CHAPTER  VI 

The  cankers  of  a  calm  world  and  long  peace.  —  SHAKESPEARE. 

WHEN  a  train  has  been  going  along  for  hours  with 
out  a  stop,  and  suddenly  runs  more  slowly  and  is 
still,  there  is  something  the  same  feeling  of  cessation, 
of  actual  physical  discomfort,  which  falls  upon  a 
manufacturing  town  when  the  mills  are  off. 

In  the  heavy  quiet  of  a  fog-choked  morning,  the 
gates  of  the  Staunton  plant  were  closed,  and  the  men 
groped  back  to  their  homes  through  a  white  mist 
which  hid  anything  twenty  feet  away,  and  left  each 
curiously  alone  in  the  smother,  though  every  sound 
from  invisible  sources  was  magnified. 

Breakfast  in  the  innumerable  boarding-houses  and 
restaurants  was  on  time;  but  the  men  straggled  in, 
loitering,  thrown  out  of  their  bearings,  when  hours 
and  days  were  not  disposed  of  aforetime.  Leisure 
disconcerted  them.  Because  they  were  not  accustomed 
to  it,  they  had  no  notion  of  employing  it.  Some  were 
taciturn  and  others  declamatory.  A  few  had  been 
drinking,  just  past  daylight  though  it  was ;  but  all, 
as  usual,  bent  over  their  plates,  eating  fast  and  swal 
lowing  their  hot  coffee  hurriedly. 

71 


72  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD 

Manning,  whose  room  was  on  another  street,  came 
into  his  boarding-house  among  the  first.  It  was  the 
best  in  Staunton.  The  best  men  and  the  highest 
paid  went  to  it,  and  it  partook  of  the  nature  of  a 
club  in  that  no  newcomer  was  admitted  without 
the  consent  of  those  already  in  possession.  Manning 
found  many  of  the  men  dubious  and  depressed,  wor 
ried  over  the  prospects  before  them,  yet  —  actuated 
by  various  motives  worthy  or  vindictive  —  resolute  as 
to  standing  by  the  cause  for  which  they  had  declared. 
Since  they  were  unmarried,  long  idleness  was  not  for 
them  the  matter  of  sickening  dread  which  it  was  to 
the  fathers  of  families.  And  as  they  were  highly 
skilled  workmen,  they  had  not  much  fear  of  being 
indefinitely  unemployed.  There  were  a  number, 
however,  who  were  still  determined  to  remain  inde 
pendent  of  the  unions,  and  who  were  bitterly  resent 
ful  against  those  whose  actions  had  brought  things 
to  the  present  pass.  They  had  their  own  consider 
able  following. 

One  of  them,  whose  place  was  across  from  Man 
ning's  at  the  long  table,  precipitated  a  discussion. 
He  was  of  the  men  who  had  read  widely  upon  sub 
jects  of  government,  economics,  and  political  theories. 
And  he  strengthened  his  first  attack  with  a  quota 
tion,  "  It's  true  what  De  Tocqueville  says,  —  if  you 
belong  to  the  unions  or  any  of  them  kinds  of 
associations,  you  abjure  your  own  judgment  and 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  73 

free  will,  and  the  societies  gets  an  insupportable 
tyranny  over  you." 

Manning  looked  at  him  with  a  quick,  steady  glance 
which  summed  him  up.  Then  he  turned  his  atten 
tion  to  stirring  his  coffee.  "I  think  you'll  find," 
he  said,  "that  a  few  lines  farther  on  there  is  some 
thing  about  no  man  having  a  right  to  claim  himself 
a  free  citizen  who  submits  his  opinions  to  another's 
control  and  consents  to  obey  with  servility.  Am  I 
right?" 

The  man  planted  his  elbows  on  the  table  and  took 
it  up.  "Who  is  submitting  his  opinions  and  obey 
ing  with  servility?" 

"  I  wasn't  pointing  that  out,"  objected  Manning, 
amicably.  "I  was  only  trying  to  make  you  see  that 
if  /  had  not  become  a  union  man,  I  should  have 
been  submitting  my  opinions  to  another's  control 
and  obeying  with  servility.  I  had  come  to  believe 
that  the  union  was  right."  He  took  up  his  cup  and 
drank  some  of  the  coffee.  "And  I  hope  you  will 
some  day,"  he  added,  setting  the  cup  down  again. 

The  man  disclaimed  any  intention  of  ever  allow 
ing  himself  to  do  so. 

"That  is  unfortunate,"  Manning  commented  with 
out  vehemence,  "because  this  is  an  age  where  every 
business,  from  the  one  we  work  in  to  the  ones  that 
sell  us  our  drugs  and  our  books,  is  combined  more 
or  less  exactly  as  the  unions  would  like  to  have  all 


74  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

of  us.  It's  an  old  maxim  of  our  country  that  union 
is  strength.  If  there  is  anybody  who  needs  strength, 
it  is  the  wage-earner." 

"  We'll  lose  any  we've  got  if  we  don't  keep  the 
right  to  do  as  we  please,"  protested  the  other,  with 
heat. 

"The  further  we  get  civilized  the  less  we  keep 
that  right  —  as  individuals.  Perhaps  you've  read 
where  some  one  tells  us  that  a  man  isn't  at  liberty 
to  do  what  he  pleases  with  his  own  skin  in  a  civil 
ized  community  ?  " 

"  Unions  is  mapped  out  to  benefit  the  lower  level 
of  the  men  —  not  the  highest,  the  most  intelligent," 
asserted  the  older  man. 

"  So  is  democracy,"  answered  Manning,  compla 
cently. 

He  had  finished  his  breakfast,  and  he  rose  and 
waited  now  with  his  hands  resting  on  the  back  of 
his  chair.  Standing  there  where  the  others  were 
still  seated  and  most  of  them  looking  toward  him, 
his  face  showing  that  earnestness  which  does  not 
waste  itself  in  impetuosity  and  excitability,  his  head 
thrust  somewhat  forward,  as  were  his  powerful  shoul 
ders  also,  he  was  the  embodiment  of  purpose,  and  he 
looked  the  man  who  has  it  in  him  to  be  followed,  to 
either  win  or  command  adherence.  But  he  was  still 
young  —  only  a  couple  of  years  past  his  majority. 
And  the  greater  part  of  the  men  were  older  and 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  75 

more  cautious.  Their  reason  spoke  against  the 
unreasoning  instinct  which  inclined  them  to  be 
strongly  influenced  by  him. 

"  I  wonder  —  "  he  said  to  his  man  directly,  but  over 
the  head  of  him  to  all  the  others  who  were  listening  — 
"  I  wonder  how  many  of  us  who  value  what  we  have 
already  got  realize  that  there's  hardly  an  item  we 
don't  owe  to  the  unions  —  even  to  the  education  we 
set  so  much  store  by  for  ourselves  and  our  children  ? 
Yet  there  was  a  big  enough  cry  of  anarchy,  not  by  any 
means  a  hundred  years  ago,  when  a  labor  federation 
demanded  education  for  the  workingman's  family.  It 
was  as  impudent  and  abominable  then  as  it  is  for  him 
now  to  try  to  say  something  that  has  got  to  be  listened 
to  about  the  right  terms  for  his  labor." 

Whether  it  was  that  the  other  did  not  care  to  argue 
it  further,  or  that  he  had  heard  a  fact  which  was  new 
to  him  and  gave  him  pause  for  thought,  he  did  not 
answer,  but  applied  himself  to  his  plate.  Manning 
went  out  of  the  place. 

Though  the  mist  was  still  thick  enough  to  make  out 
lines  indistinct,  he  saw  ahead  of  him  on  the  sidewalk 
a  figure  which  limped  badly.  He  knew  it  at  once  to 
be  his  cousin  Farraday.  Farraday,  who  had  been  a 
laborer  in  the  plant,  was  an  honest,  hard-working 
fellow,  a  widower  who  supported  four  children  to  whom 
he  was  devoted.  He  had  been  lamed  some  years  before 
by  a  pair  of  fellow-laborers  who  had  caught  him  sleep- 


76  CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD 

ing  on  the  casting  floor  and  had  indulged  in  one  of  the 
popular  and  brutal  jokes  common  among  their  kind, 
putting  a  piece  of  quicklime  upon  his  leg  and  pouring 
water  over  it.  The  burn,  though  not  severe,  had  had 
more  than  the  usual  consequences,  through  having 
been  neglected.  Farraday,  poorly  able  to  afford  either 
medical  attendance  or  laying  off  for  several  days,  had 
paid  no  attention  to  the  wound,  and  had  gone  on  with 
his  work.  The  sore  had  gradually  spread  and  eaten 
deeper.  A  period  in  the  hospital  had  resulted,  and  a 
lameness  for  life  which  made  his  toil  more  than  ever 
hard  and  exhausting. 

Manning  overtook  him  and  walked  beside  him, 
shortening  his  own  steps  to  the  uneven  ones. 

Farraday  was  in  an  angry  temper  and  expressed 
himself  at  a  good  deal  of  length,  arraigning  Manning 
in  particular  and  the  union  men  in  general.  "  It's  a 
pity,"  he  finished,  his  voice  broken  with  indignation, 
"  that  you  can't  keep  from  dragging  us  into  the  trouble. 
It's  what  you  try  to  do,  and  you  work  it  damned  often. 
You  don't  want  to  leave  anybody  the  chance  to  live  if 
he  don't  dance  to  the  tune  you  play.  I've  got  to  work, 
and  I  want  to  work.  And  here  I  am  thrown  out  of  a 
job  for  God  Almighty  knows  how  long  —  me  who's  got 
a  family  of  four  little  kids  to  look  after."  The  tears 
came  into  his  eyes  in  his  desperation. 

Manning  did  not  try  to  go  into  the  matter  with  him 
beyond  an  attempt  to  defend  himself  and  the  union 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  77 

men  from  the  charge  of  being  to  blame  in  this  instance. 
They  had,  he  reminded,  been  discharged  themselves. 

"You're  as  slick  with  your  tongue  as  the  rest  of 
them,"  retorted  the  distressed  laborer,  contemptuously. 
"  Tennant  done  a  good  business  when  he  kicked  you 
out  first  thing.  He'd  ought  to  have  run  you  out  of 
town  too,  all  of  you.  There's  trouble  and  broken  con 
tracts  and  bullying  and  interference  wherever  you  get 
in.  Don't  talk  to  me,"  he  interrupted  the  reply  Man 
ning  was  beginning.  "  All  your  smooth  tongue  don't 
change  it  that  I've  got  four  children  to  feed,  and  that 
I  don't  know  how  I'm  going  to  go  about  it.  You  —  "  he 
reminded  with  an  accent  of  bitter  envy  —  "  you  don't 
have  to  worry.  You'll  get  your  benefit  all  right." 
He  was  not  to  be  placated  or  won  over,  and  he  went 
his  way  across  the  river  to  the  city,  walking  all  the 
distance  to  save  the  five  cents  which  had  now  a  multi 
plied  value. 

Manning  kept  on  through  the  streets  of  the  town. 
The  shops  were  just  opened,  and  the  fruits  and  vege 
tables  were  being  set  out  in  front  of  the  stores.  There 
was  a  smell  of  pavements  and  wood  floors  being 
sprinkled  and  swept.  The  sun  was  coming  through 
the  fog  and  the  sky  was  showing  blue,  with  little 
gray  haze,  since  no  smoke  rolled  now  from  the  Staun- 
ton  lines  of  stacks,  nor  from  those  of  the  mills  in  the 
district  which  the  general  strike  order  had  closed. 

Up   in  the  lifting  white  mist  there   appeared,  now 


78  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

and  then,  dangling  from  telegraph  poles,  limp,  absurd 
figures.  They  were  effigies  of  Tennant,  Durran,  and 
others  of  the  company,  which  had  been  run  up  the 
night  before.  "  Those,"  said  Manning  aloud,  though 
to  himself,  "  will  have  to  come  down."  It  seemed  to 
him  a  sort  of  thing  arguing  about  the  state  of  intel 
ligence  of  sticking  pins  into  the  wax  shape  of  an  enemy 
and  melting  it  before  the  fire.  And  just  so  long  as 
that  state  of  intelligence  should  continue,  just  so  long 
would  the  condition  of  the  men  who  had  not  progressed 
beyond  it  continue  to  be  what  it  was  now.  The  work 
of  a  few  leaders,  the  benefits  of  a  few  masters,  even 
legislation  itself,  would  be  helpless  to  effect  any  great 
betterment. 

Untidy  women  in  wrappers  came  from  doorways 
which  showed  vistas  of  dark,  dirty  rooms,  or  from  foul 
yards  where  sometimes  a  sooty  green  plant  or  two  grew 
in  rubbish  and  offal,  —  giving  token  of  at  least  a  wish 
for  better  things,  though  it  were  a  wish  as  unflour- 
ishing  and  discouraged  as  the  poor  plants  themselves. 
The  women  slouched  by,  their  hair  unbrushed  and 
dusty,  their  skirts  draggling,  their  feet  not  infrequently 
bare.  Nearly  all  were  dark-skinned,  —  Italians,  Rus 
sians,  Hungarians,  Poles.  They  carried  pitchers  of 
blue  milk,  loaves  of  bread,  and  chunks  of  stale,  dark 
red,  raw  meat  for  the  breakfast  there  was  now  no  need 
of  having  at  any  especial  time.  And  they  called  harshly, 
screechingly,  to  one  another  in  uncouth  tongues. 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  79 

Manning  thought  of  the  appalling  task  stretching 
far,  indefinitely  ahead  into  time,  which  raising  and 
educating  such  as  these  would  present  —  a  task,  how 
ever,  imperative,  needed,  lying  close  at  hand,  and  be 
side  which  that  of  the  missionary  to  heathen  lands  was 
far  inferior  in  difficulty,  value,  and  dignity,  though 
the  latter  might  carry  with  it  honor,  and  the  former 
something  almost  obloquy.  And  until  the  raising  and 
education  could  be  accomplished  —  if  that  could  ever 
be  —  the  demand  was  a  crying  one  for  some  sane  power 
which  should  be  able  to  lead  and  control,  with  absolute 
dominance. 

Tennant  had,  at  one  time,  helped  in  the  erection  of 
a  model  tenement-house,  which  now,  after  a  very  few 
years,  was  in  a  state  of  utter  disrepair,  having  been 
shamelessly  abused  with  entire  indifference  to  the 
future.  Tennant,  much  disgusted  with  the  shiftless- 
ness  and  slovenliness  of  the  inmates,  had  refused  to 
put  it  in  order  time  and  again,  as  he  was  evidently 
expected  to  do.  And  it  was,  as  a  consequence,  about 
the  least  desirable  house  in  Staunton.  As  Manning 
came  in  front  of  it  he  saw  four  familiar  figures  in  a 
doorway  on  the  lowest  steps.  They  were  Farraday's 
children.  The  eldest  was  Nettie,  aged  twelve.  The 
youngest  was  also  a  girl,  not  yet  a  year  old,  puny  and 
undersized,  but  precociously  wise-looking  and  solemn. 
Manning  was  immensely  a  favorite  with  the  four,  little 
as  they  saw  of  him.  Nettie,  calling  a  greeting,  sat  the 


80  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

baby  upon  the  sidewalk  with  a  bump  which  jerked 
its  too  large  head,  and  came  running.  The  boys, 
aged  respectively  six  and  four,  followed.  Nettie 
caught  one  of  the  big  hands  of  this  much-admired 
second  cousin  and,  swinging  to  it  with  both  her  own, 
skipped  along  beside  him.  The  two  boys,  who  felt  in 
honor  bound  to  emulate  their  big  sister  in  all  that  she 
did,  clung  to  the  fingers  on  the  other  side,  being 
thereby  nearly  lifted  upon  the  tips  of  their  toes. 

Nettie  was  bare-legged  quite  to  the  knees,  and  her 
flannel  dress  was  all  that  she  wore,  as  the  skin,  show 
ing  through  a  tear  or  two,  was  proof.  It  was  not  so 
bad  now  in  the  spring  weather,  but  there  had  been 
winter  days  when  she  had  not  been  a  great  deal  better 
clothed,  and  when  the  sight  of  her  purple  and  red  flesh 
had  made  Manning's  own  thick  ulster  burn  like  a 
Nessus  shirt.  Upon  two  different  occasions  he  had 
given  her  coats. 

There  was  too  much  keenness  and  eagerness  in 
Nettie's  eyes  as  she  peered  from  under  the  shock  of 
coarse  brown  hair  —  the  look  of  a  lean  young  wolf  in 
which  the  instinct  for  the  hunt  is  developing.  But  he 
knew  that  she  had  many  virtues.  In  the  last  half  year 
since  her  mother  had  died  she  had  been  the  keeper  of 
the  two  rooms  which  represented  home  —  a  mother  to 
the  three  younger  children.  The  baby,  in  particular, 
was  the  object  of  a  quite  maternal  solicitude  and 
interest. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  81 

He  looked  at  the  trio  which  swung  from  his  hands. 
They  were  none  too  well  fed  now.  Before  long  they 
would  probably  be  hungry  —  even  at  starvation.  He 
gave  them  some  pennies  and  sent  them  into  a  wretched 
little  bakery,  with  instructions  to  buy  anything  they 
might  like  which  should  not  be  trash. 

He  was  on  the  street  along  which  the  railroad  tracks 
ran  to  the  mills,  and  he  followed  it  down.  There  was 
a  whitewashed  fence  around  the  whole  of  the  yards. 
It  was  raised  on  a  bank  of  earth  and  clinkers,  and  was, 
in  height,  rather  more  than  that  of  a  man.  Halfway 
up  there  were,  at  regular  intervals,  holes  sufficiently 
large  to  allow  the  passing  of  a  rifle  barrel.  There  was 
also  around  the  top  a  barbed- wire  strand,  the  which,  it 
was  believed  by  the  men,  could  be  electrized  at  will. 
The  fence  had  been  put  up  during  the  time  of  the  past 
armed  struggle  between  the  union  employees  and  the 
company  of  which  Tennant  had  been  then  merely  a 
not  very  important  officer.  It  was  known  by  the 
company  as  a  fence,  by  the  men  as  a  stockade.  Coal 
and  iron  policemen  were  at  the  gates,  and  through  the 
sight-holes  blue  uniformed  watchmen  could  be  seen 
moving  about  in  the  yards.  Laborers,  children,  and 
even  some  workingmen  were  jeering  and  casting  taunts 
through  the  fence,  as  well  as  hooting  "  scab "  and 
"  blacksheep,"  and  more  offensive  terms  yet,  after 
occasional  men  who  went  by  on  the  street. 

Manning  made  several  efforts  to  put  a  stop  to  it, 


82  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

which  were  effectual  only  so  long  as  he  was  in  sight. 
Such  puerilities  as  calling  names  and  hanging  effigies 
were  tactics  with  which  he  had  small  patience.  But 
they  would  probably  continue  under  Lockhart's  leader 
ship.  The  violence  which  he  himself  believed  should 
not  be  resorted  to  under  any  provocation  whatsoever, 
Lockhart  would  be  the  very  one  to  urge  and  incite. 
And  the  subject  of  Lockhart's  election  to  the  chairman 
ship  had  therefore  been  one  upon  which  —  as  a  member 
of  the  advisory  committee  —  he  had  already  unequivo 
cally  expressed  himself.  Since  the  election  he  had 
opposed  most  of  Lockhart's  moves  at  every  turn. 
The  latter  took  it  as  being  actuated  by  personal 
motives  and  by  jealous  rivalry.  "  You  keep  on  kick 
ing  up  trouble  and  fighting  me  in  this  committee,  and 
I'll  run  you  out  of  it,  and  out  of  the  town,  too,"  he 
had  threatened. 

"  No,"  had  differed  Manning,  unmoved  and  deliberate. 
"  I  don't  think  you  will." 

The  committee  and  many  outside  it  had  begun  to  be 
not  too  well  satisfied  with  the  temper  and  methods  of 
the  chairman.  It  had  not  been  as  a  militant  body  that 
they  had  intended  to  organize,  but  as  one  to  work 
for  the  interests  of  the  men  who  were  without  posi 
tions  and  without  much  prospect  of  getting  any.  It 
had  been  also  their  intention  to,  if  possible,  oblige 
the  company  to  unionize  the  mills  and  take  back  its 
old  workmen  as  union  members.  Lockhart  had  been 


CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WORLD  83 

elected  in  the  first  flush  of  antagonism,  and  because 
of  the  work  he  had  done.  But  already  those  who 
preferred  Manning's  more  conservative  attitude  were 
growing  in  number. 

Lockhart  might,  nevertheless,  have  kept  his  leader 
ship  indefinitely  had  it  not  been  for  an  encounter  with 
Farraday  upon  the  very  day  of  the  shut-down.  It  was 
not  with  those  so  low  in  the  social  scale  as  day  labor 
ers  that  Lockhart,  as  a  rule,  concerned  himself.  He 
happened,  however,  to  be  thrown  in  Farraday's  com 
pany  for  a  few  minutes  upon  the  porch  of  the  town 
hall.  And  fanaticism,  together  with  a  meddling  dis 
position,  moved  him  to  begin  with  the  dinkey  man 
upon  the  uppermost  topic. 

Farraday,  usually  peaceable,  was  to-day  worked  up 
over  his  misfortunes,  goaded  and  made  savage  by 
total  failure  to  get  anything  to  do  in  the  city.  His 
answers  to  Lockhart  were  such  as  to  bring  blows 
within  a  few  seconds.  The  first  was  struck  by  Lock- 
hart,  who  was  not  averse  to  attacking  a  lame  man. 
But  Farraday,  in  spite  of  his  lameness,  was  a  mus 
cular  fellow  with  an  Irish  father's  fighting  blood. 
Lockhart  had  fared  badly,  though  he  might  have 
escaped  with  only  a  bruising  and  two  closed  eyes, 
save  for  a  too  sudden  dodge  which  caused  him  to 
plunge  backward  down  the  steps.  The  town  hall 
was  built  on  the  side  of  a  steep  hill,  and  the  steps 
were  high  ones,  with  little  incline.  The  force  of 


84  CAPTAINS    OP   THE   WORLD 

the  fall  was  considerable,  and  he  landed  full  upon 
the  point  of  his  shoulder.  The  collar-bone,  which 
had  been  broken  once  not  long  before,  was  broken 
again,  and  when  he  was  helped  up,  he  presented  a 
twisted,  one-sided  appearance,  and  was  cursing  with 
fury  and  pain. 

Yet  he  could,  no  doubt,  have  resumed  his  duties  as 
chairman  within  a  few  days  had  not  the  majority  of 
the  committee,  after  a  hot  debate,  chosen  to  consider 
him  indefinitely  out  of  the  running.  Manning  was 
elected  to  his  place.  Lockhart,  being  apprised  of  the 
event,  in  the  rage  of  a  blinded  Cyclops,  did  himself 
further  injury  by  unsetting  the  broken  bone.  And 
even  while  he  was  enduring  its  replacing  by  a  sur 
geon,  too  annoyed  to  be  gentle,  the  new  chairman  was 
already  on  his  way  to  a  mass  meeting  in  the  city. 

It  was  not  Manning's  intention  to  go  cautiously 
about  reversing  his  predecessor's  policy  —  to  bide  his 
time.  Dilatory  tactics  were  opposed  to  his  methods 
of  life.  The  time,  in  his  opinion,  was  the  present, 
and  his  attitude  should  be  defined  once  and  for  all, 
his  stand  taken  now. 


CHAPTER   VII 

Eh !  non,  ne  vous  trompez  pas ;  les  plus  grandes  distances  ne 
sont  pas  celles  que  la  Nature  a  marquees  par  les  lieux. 

Ah,  no !  do  not  make  that  mistake ;  the  greatest  distances  are 
not  those  which  Nature  has  marked  by  localities. 

—  JULIE  DE  LESPINASSE. 

ALAN  TENKANT  opened  the  door  of  his  daughter's 
sitting-room  and  went  in.  And  Beatrice,  rising  from  the 
broad  window-seat,  came  forward  to  him,  tall,  supple- 
moving  in  the  long  folds  of  her  morning-gown,  her 
hair  lying  in  a  loose  coil  upon  her  neck,  which  was 
bare  and  showed  the  strength  that  gave  her  head  its 
fine  poise. 

Tennant  was  rigid  in  his  adherence  to  the  triple 
division  of  his  day  into  equal  seasons  for  sleep,  work, 
and  recreation.  It  was  a  rule  which  the  most  importu 
nate  and  insistent  was  obliged  to  accept,  that,  save 
within  the  eight  office  hours,  he  was  not  to  be  ap 
proached  upon  business.  He  was  ready  for  affairs  at 
nine  o'clock.  He  put  them  entirely  from  him  at  five. 
And  in  the  years  since  he  had  been  his  own  master,  few 
considerations  had  been  so  urgent  as  to  cause  his  over 
stepping  the  limits  he  had  set.  At  present  it  was  not 
much  after  eight  and  he  had  followed  his  usual  custom 

85 


86  CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD 

of  coming  to  see  Beatrice  before  driving  himself  down 
into  the  city.  He  had  had  his  frugal  coffee  and  rolls 
in  his  own  room,  and  Beatrice  had  breakfasted  less 
simply  in  hers. 

The  great  white  granite  house,  set  far  back  in  its 
grounds,  lacked  any  of  the  home  life  which  comes  of 
common  interests  and  acts.  From  the  few  minutes  in 
the  little  sitting-room,  until  the  tedious  and  formal 
dinner  through  which  the  two  always  sat,  late  in  the 
evening,  Beatrice  and  her  father  never  met,  unless 
by  some  special  appointment. 

She  had  been  looking  over  her  mail,  ensconced  in  the 
seat  of  the  open  window,  and  the  cushions  were  strewn 
with  letters.  There  was  also  a  long  cardboard  box 
from  which  the  cover  had  been  taken,  and  which 
showed  out  of  a  folding  of  waxed  paper  the  leaves,  long 
stems,  and  yellow  petals  of  Safrana  roses.  Tennant 
looked  at  them,  and  taking  one  up,  held  it  out  to  her. 
"  Am  I  to  have  a  rosebud  ?  "  he  asked.  She  cut  the 
stem  and  pinned  the  bud  to  his  coat.  He  took  it  for 
granted  that  the  flowers  were  some  she  had  ordered 
for  herself  —  the  florist  being  regularly  called  upon 
to  supply  the  deficiencies  of  the  Tennant  hothouse, 
which  was  not  large.  But  as  he  pushed  the  box  a 
little  to  one  side  and  sat  himself  where  it  had  been, 
a  card  fell  to  the  floor.  He  stooped  and  picked  it  up. 
It  was  Valerie's.  Beatrice  was  certain  that  when  in 
his  business  he  gained  some  point  which  gave  him  sat- 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  87 

isf action,  he  employed  the  same  mask  of  unconcern 
which  was  on  his  face  now.  "  So  they  are  from  the 
Prince  ?  "  he  said.  He  used  the  title  always  in  prefer 
ence  to  the  name. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Beatrice.  "  They  were  brought  up 
with  the  letters." 

Why,  he  asked  her,  had  she  said  nothing  of  this  to 
him  ? 

"  Is  it  so  very  extraordinary  for  some  one  to  send  me 
flowers  ?  "  she  inquired,  smiling. 

He  ignored  the  evasion,  which  was,  after  all,  sufficient 
reply  to  much,  since  she  was  usually  simple  and  direct. 

"  Does  he  want  to  marry  you,  Beatrice  ?  "  he  said, 
looking  at  her  closely. 

"  Yes,"  she  told  him,  without  any  color  coming  into 
her  face.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  questioned 
her  in  regard  to  such  a  matter,  though  often  before  he 
had  supposed  that  men  had  made  love  to  her  and  had 
been  refused.  They  were  neither  of  them  given  to 
futile  discussion  of  what  might  be  or  might  have 
been. 

"  Have  you  accepted  him  ?  "  he  asked  now. 

She  told  him  in  a  few  words. 

"  I  hope  you  will  decide  to  marry  him,"  Tennant 
expressed  himself  unequivocally.  "  Probably  he  wants 
my  money.  But  then  any  man  will  have  an  eye  to 
that."  The  thing  did  not  seem  so  pleasant  when  he 
said  it  as  when  she  excused  it  to  herself.  "  And,"  he 


88  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

went  on,  "  if  you  have  got  to  be  married  for  money,  it 
is  better  to  let  a  foreigner  do  it  —  he  is  not  so  contemp 
tible  in  being  able  to  as  an  American  would  be."  He 
saw  that  she  did  not  look  well  pleased.  "  You  might  as 
well  accept  that  philosophically  and  in  a  matter-of-fact 
way,  Beatrice,"  he  counselled,  with  kind  intent.  "  It  is 
one  of  the  things  you  have  to  pay  in  exchange  for 
wealth.  You  can  never  be  sure  you  have  love  —  not 
even  for  a  short  while,  as  poorer  mortals  sometimes 
can. 

"  This  man,"  he  urged,  "  is  a  very  decent  sort  of 
fellow  from  what  I  have  found  out  —  uncommonly 
good  for  a  prince.  I  would  not  keep  him  waiting  too 
long,  if  I  were  you  —  there  are  other  women  who  are 
richer  to  be  had  for  precious  little  asking.  And  such 
a  match  is  not  to  be  made  every  day." 

Beatrice  moved  uneasily  and,  rising,  took  the  roses 
and  put  them  on  a  table  out  of  the  sunshine.  "  I  must 
take  time  to  think  of  it,"  she  said.  And  then  she  tried 
to  lead  him  from  the  subject.  She  had  a  letter  which 
she  wished  to  read  him.  She  took  it  from  among 
those  upon  the  cushions.  "  It  is  from  Mr.  Lester,"  she 
said. 

Tennant  did  not  owe  his  success  in  life  to  a  character 
which  allowed  him  to  be  quite  so  easily  diverted  from 
the  thing  upon  which  his  mind  was  set.  "  You  are 
not  thinking  of  marrying  John  Durran,  are  you  ?  "  he 
asked  with  unmistakable  hardness.  She  answered  that 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WOELD  89 

she  was  not,  and  he  might  well  have  been  assured  of  her 
sincerity.  But  he  was  not  a  good  judge  of  either  men 
or  women,  save  in  business  relations,  since  the  reading 
of  motives  requires  something  more  than  wariness  and 
ever  ready  suspicion. 

"  Because,"  he  added,  "  you  will  not  have  my  consent 
to  that  —  not  under  any  circumstances." 

If  she  had  had  the  remotest  idea  of  accepting  Durran, 
the  attempt  to  command  her  would  have  strengthened 
it.  She  noticed  the  antagonism  which  had  never  formerly 
been  in  his  manner  in  speaking  of  the  manager.  Had 
Durran  gone  finally  too  far  in  expressing  his  own  ideas 
as  to  the  policy  pursued  by  the  company's  head?  She 
believed  it  not  improbable,  for  he  was  inclined  to  be 
indifferent  to  consequences  in  saying  what  he  thought. 
In  that  case,  her  father  would  be  certain  to  become  as 
set  against  him  as  he  was  against  all  else  which  opposed 
him,  from  the  unions  down. 

"  I  have  no  thought  whatever  of  marrying  John,"  she 
repeated,  "  and  I  have  told  him  so  —  in  a  way  which  he 
should  believe."  She  opened  the  letter  in  her  hand  and 
began  to  read  it  to  him. 

Since  the  time  that  Lockhart  had  got  control  of  the 
situation  across  the  river,  Lester  had  advised  strongly 
against  her  going  over  to  Staunton,  even  though  her 
services  were  needed.  Now,  however,  that  Manning 
had  been  appointed  to  the  chairmanship,  he  wrote  that 
in  his  opinion  it  would  be  quite  safe  for  her  to  take  up 


90  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

her  duties  again.  "  The  place  is  rather  more  quiet,  if 
any  thing,  than  when  the  plant  is  in  operation,"  he  told  her, 
"  for  the  reason  that  most  of  the  town  authorities  are 
on  the  committee  and  are  throwing  their  influence  with 
Manning."  The  liquor  dealers,  he  went  on  to  enlarge, 
were  under  surveillance,  that  drunkenness  might  be 
prevented ;  both  banks  of  the  river  were  picketed,  to 
keep  out  not  only  non-union  men,  but  undesirable  char 
acters  ;  and  the  streets  were  thoroughly  patrolled.  "  I 
should  say  you  would  be  even  safer  here  than  in  the 
city,"  he  ended,  "  since  there  the  ruffian  may  roam  at 
large,  and  strikers  from  the  other  mills  are  everywhere." 
Tennant  had  by  no  means  relished  the  implied  eulogy 
of  Manning.  But  he  knew  from  other  accounts  that  the 
condition  of  Staunton  was  as  peaceable  as  the  clergyman 
had  said.  He  himself  believed  that  there  would  be  no 
danger  for  Beatrice,  less  indeed  than  in  the  city  itself, 
even  as  Lester  had  suggested.  And  though  his  wrath 
was  mightily  kindled  against  Staunton  and  all  who  were 
therein,  it  was  not  his  desire  to  seem  to  conduct  this 
question  upon  the  lines  of  resentment  and  ill-will, 
rather  than  upon  those  of  impersonal  principle.  He  not 
only  wished  to  continue  his  benefactions  as  usual,  but 
to  have  it  known  that  he  was  doing  so.  He  therefore 
gave  his  permission  for  Beatrice  to  take  up  her  work  at 
Staunton  again,  for  the  time  being,  at  least,  until  there 
should  begin  to  manifest  itself  some  of  that  violence 
which  he  was  satisfied  Manning  could  not  for  long 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  91 

prevent,  even  supposing  him  to  be  sincere  in  trying. 
"  And  there  will  be  extra  funds  at  your  disposal  if  you 
need  them,"  he  added.  "  You  will  probably  have  plenty 
of  calls  for  them  before  the  trouble  is  over."  Then  he 
rose  and  started  to  the  door.  "  Remember  me  to  Lester," 
he  said.  In  Tennant's  opinion  Lester  was  a  well-inten 
tioned  but  mistaken  youth  who  was  giving  his  life  to  a 
thankless  task,  and  that  in  spite  of  the  offer  of  better 
things  —  from  the  financial  and  social  standpoint  — 
which  Tennant  had  himself  made.  The  latter  was  a 
vestryman  and  de  facto  manager  of  a  church  in  the  city 
which  could  not  well  afford  to  forego  his  support.  He 
stopped  with  his  hand  on  the  knob  and  looked  back. 
"  I  hope  you  will  decide  for  Prince  Valerio,"  he  reminded 
pointedly.  He  did  not  wait  for  her  answer,  but  went 
out  and  closed  the  door. 

Beatrice  arranged  Valerio's  roses  in  a  couple  of 
vases.  When  she  had  dressed  she  fastened  several  in 
her  belt.  Then  she  went  out  and  took  the  street 
car  to  Staunton.  It  was  never  her  custom  to  go  in 
her  carriage.  The  cars  took  her  directly  to  the 
church  and  the  parish  house. 

In  Lester's  office  in  the  latter  small  building,  she 
found  a  woman  whom  she  did  not  know,  and  whom 
the  rector  presented  as  Mrs.  Kemble. 

The  stiff  and  unwilling  hand  which  Mrs.  Kemble 
put  out  might,  in  itself,  have  been  enough  to  deter 
Beatrice  from  attempting  further  well-meant  advances. 


92  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WOULD 

But  in  dealing  with  the  Staunton  people  there  was 
usually  allowance  to  be  made  for  constraint  felt  in 
the  presence  of  the  magnate's  daughter.  It  was  a 
negative  force  which  Beatrice  had  found  she  must 
overcome.  Mrs.  Kemble's  only  response  to  her 
words  was  to  barely  bow  the  head  which  was  sur 
mounted  by  a  very  large  crimson  hat.  Beatrice  was 
sure  now  of  the  insolent  intention.  She  met  the 
small,  cold  eyes  with  a  look  of  quiet  rebuke,  then 
turned  deliberately  away.  She  never  fell  into  the 
deprecating  over-anxiety  to  please  which  she  had 
often  observed  upon  the  part  of  the  rich,  when  in 
presence  of  those  less  fortunate  than  themselves. 
She  admitted  no  claim  to  superiority  upon  the  score  of 
her  father's  wealth.  On  the  other  hand,  she  was  not 
to  be  put  upon  the  defensive  because  of  it.  It  was  a 
lesson  which  had  been  inculcated  by  the  sisters  who 
had  taught  her  in  the  convent  —  one  of  the  several 
things  she  had  learned  which  Tennant  had  not  ar 
ranged  for,  and  which  she  would  hardly  have  acquired 
in  the  average  girl's  school  in  her  own  land. 

And  now,  though  she  did  not  resort  to  a  rigid 
behavior  and  immobility  to  express  her  dignity, 
Mrs.  Kemble  felt  that  by  some  subtlety  unknown  to 
herself  the  dignity  had  nevertheless  been  maintained. 
From  underneath  the  lids,  more  dangerously  drooped 
than  ever,  she  cast  an  unpleasant  look  at  the  back 
of  the  figure  in  the  plain  tan  suit.  Then,  as  Miss 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  93 

Tennant  was  already  in  conversation  with  Lester,  — 
a  conversation  which  did  not  include  herself,  —  she 
went  toward  the  door.  Lester  was  before  her  and 
opened  it.  He  closed  it  behind  her,  and  went  back 
to  his  chair. 

"  That  woman,"  he  said,  with  a  jerk  of  his  head 
in  the  direction  of  the  street,  "  has  taken,  of  late,  to 
coming  here  at  all  hours  for  no  sufficient  reason." 

Was   she   not   rather  defiant?  Beatrice  questioned. 

She  had  certainly  seemed  to  be,  just  now,  Lester 
answered.  "  Though  it  is,  after  all,  only  her  usual 
manner  somewhat  accentuated.  She  makes  me  un 
comfortable  with  her  unvarying  regular  features  show 
ing  from  that  mass  of  copper-colored  hair  parted 
over  her  ears,  and  that  steely  look  from  under  her 
lids." 

Was  Mrs.  Kemble  interested  in  the  work  ?  Beatrice 
asked. 

"No,"  said  Lester,  decidedly.  "I  don't  believe  that 
she  is.  She  makes  a  pretence  of  it;  but  it  is  some 
other  reason  brings  her  here." 

Beatrice  could  not  help  the  speculation  as  to 
whether  it  might  not  be  within  the  range  of  possi 
bility  that  it  was  Lester  himself  who  was  the  attrac 
tion  for  Mrs.  Kemble.  She  had  once  heard  one  of  his 
enthusiastic  spinster  admirers  proclaim  openly  a  love 
which  was  insisted  upon  as  wholly  spiritual,  but  in 
which  Beatrice  herself  had  not  been  able  to  help 


94  CAPTAIXS   OF   THE   WORLD 

misdoubting  a  more  human  tinge.  And  another  had 
asserted  that  she  would  be  willing  to  go  the  length  of 
Staunton  upon  her  knees  for  him. 

"  I  have  sometimes  thought,"  said  Lester,  "  that  the 
frequent  visits  have  something  to  do  with  the  hope 
of  meeting  Manning  here." 

"  Surely  —  "  began  Beatrice,  and  stopped. 

"  No,"  Lester  answered  the  unasked  question.  "  She 
is  married  to  an  old  man,  though,"  he  continued.  "  As 
for  Manning  —  the  two  or  three  times  that  they  have 
happened  to  meet  in  my  presence  he  has  ignored  her 
existence  with  a  civil  coolness  which  would,  I  should 
say,  be  calculated  to  make  a  woman  either  hate  or 
love  him  violently.  I  may,  of  course,  be  doing  her 
an  injustice  ;  but  it  has  seemed  to  me,  when  I  have 
intercepted  her  glances  in  his  direction,  that  in  her 
case  it  has  had  the  latter  effect.  Besides,"  he  added, 
"she  brings  up  his  name  upon  every  occasion,  and 
there  is  no  keeping  her  away  from  it." 

He  was  not  a  man  to  lightly  handle  the  reputation 
of  a  woman  of  any  class.  It  was  only,  perhaps,  to 
Miss  Teunant  that  he  would  have  spoken  as  he  did 
now.  Their  having  been  so  often  obliged  to  frankly 
discuss  those  with  whom  the  work  threw  them  had 
made  it  come  as  a  matter  of  course  that  he  should 
speak  of  what  he  was  inwardly  convinced  was  Mrs. 
Kemble's  infatuation.  He  had  already  concerned 
himself  about  it  not  a  little,  fearing  any  such  en- 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD  95 

tanglement  for  Manning  as  this  silent,  handsome, 
coarse-natured  creature  might  succeed  in  drawing 
him  into. 

Then  suddenly  bethinking  himself  of  another  sub 
ject  indirectly  bearing  upon  the  one  with  regard  to 
which  he  had  just  expressed  himself,  he  asked  if 
Beatrice  had  chanced  to  read  the  report  of  Manning's 
speech  at  the  mass  meeting.  She  had  seen  it,  since 
it  had  been  in  many  papers  and  had  caused  favorable 
comment  in  all  quarters  save  that  of  the  somewhat 
belligerent  official  organs  of  certain  unions. 

"  I  heard  it,"  said  Lester.  "  I  went  over  for  the 
purpose,  and  it  was  worth  a  longer  trip.  He  had 
courage  to  come  out  as  he  did."  He  told  her  of  it 
somewhat  in  detail.  It  had  not  been  the  oratory 
which  was  remarkable.  Manning  had  talked  plainly 
and  without  any  attempt  at  flowered  phrases.  "It 
was  the  hard  sense  and  judgment,  and  his  voice  and 
personality,  which  turned  the  men  flat  about  and  led 
them  with  him,  and  that  in  spite  of  an  antagonism 
at  the  first  which  showed  itself  in  audible  mutterings. 
He  is  not  an  orator,"  Lester  passed  his  verdict,  "  but 
he  is  a  clear-headed,  forceful  man  —  and  he  is  gifted 
with  a  voice  which  makes  any  commonplace  sound 
important." 

The  striking  of  the  big  clock  which  stood  on  the 
mantelpiece  reminded  him  that  the  morning  was 
already  far  spent,  and  that  both  Miss  Tennant  and 


96  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

himself  had  affairs  of  more  immediate  moment  to 
which  to  give  their  attention.  He  told  her  that 
Mrs.  Steinberg's  case  needed  looking  into.  She  re 
quired  various  comforts,  both  bodily  and  mental. 
The  birth  of  the  child  —  which  had  happened  two 
days  before  —  had  not  served  to  take  her  out  of  con 
tinuous  dwelling  upon  her  husband's  death  and  the 
manner  of  it.  He  gave  Beatrice  Mrs.  Steinberg's 
address.  It  was  a  room  upon  the  top  floor  of 
the  erstwhile  model  tenement.  She  went  out  to 
find  it. 

There  were  a  good  many  men  in  the  streets,  but 
there  was  no  boisterousness.  On  the  contrary,  a  sense 
of  depression  was  over  everything.  These  workmen, 
through  their  own  fault  or  that  of  others,  now  with 
out  work,  were  obliged  to  face  indefinite  idleness  and 
to  remain  inactive.  They  did  not  go  away  from 
Staunton,  because  elsewhere  over  all  the  country 
nearly  every  steel  plant  was  shut  down,  and  the 
skilled  men  wanting  employment  had  no  chance. 
Moreover,  many  had  here  the  homes  into  which  they 
had  put  the  entire  savings  of  years.  It  could  be 
no  easy  matter  for  them  to  go  forth  into  the  world 
again,  to  begin  life  anew.  They  lingered,  not  know 
ing  what  else  to  do,  hopelessly  in  hope  that  the 
company  might  decide  to  unionize  the  mills,  or  else 
that  the  unions  might  be  beaten  and  all  go  on  as 
before. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD  97 

Those  who  knew  Beatrice  Tennant  —  and  many 
who  did  not,  but  only  saw  a  young  woman  who  was 
evidently  not  one  of  their  own  class  —  looked  after 
her  with  indifference.  Such  as  raised  their  hats  did 
so  without  any  especial  deference.  If  they  might 
be  trusted  to  do  her  no  harm,  they  might  also  be 
counted  upon  to  bear  her  no  fondness.  More 
than  once  she  had  experienced  the  tolerant  good 
humor  of  the  workingman  toward  whosoever  stood 
upon  no  ground  of  superior  privilege.  She  had  gone 
to  public  places  where  she  had  had  to  be  seated  upon 
any  chair  or  bench  which  was  unoccupied.  Under 
those  conditions  she  had  met  with  a  courtesy  a  trifle 
unpolished,  perhaps,  but  much  more  real  than  strangers 
of  her  own  class  would  have  been  apt  to  accord  her. 
Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  when  she  had  been  obliged 
to  make  her  way  through  crowds  in  a  manner  which 
in  any  fashion  implied  prerogative,  she  had  been  con 
scious  of  arousing  ill-feeling.  That  she  did  so  now, 
she  was  aware,  though  the  only  implication  of  supe 
riority  lay  in  the  fact  of  her  being  Alan  Tennant's 
daughter,  and  in  an  inevitably  prosperous  appearance. 
Twice  she  passed  among  groups  gathered  around 
some  one  who  had  taken  it  upon  himself  to  speak, 
and  who  was  launching  forth  into  invective  against 
her  father  and  the  existing  social  arrangements.  But 
the  groups  were  orderly  and  the  men  showed  small 
interest.  They  listened  for  a  while,  then  walked  away. 


98  CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WOULD 

Once  she  dropped  her  purse  and  did  not  know  it 
until  she  had  gone  on  for  some  distance.  Then  she 
returned  for  it.  Three  laborers  sat  on  the  ground  in 
the  shade  of  a  sign-board.  They  were  not  six  feet 
away  from  the  purse,  but  they  had  neither  touched  it 
nor  offered  to  take  it  to  her. 

She  found  Mrs.  Steinberg  in  the  top-story  room,  which 
was  light  and  well  aired  but  almost  empty  of  furniture. 
Mrs.  Steinberg's  mother  gave  the  assurance  that  the 
child  in  the  soap-box  cradle  was  well  and  strong.  She 
could  hardly  have  said  the  same  of  her  daughter,  who 
lay  weak  and  only  half -conscious,  looking  younger  than 
ever  with  the  two  long  braids  of  very  fair  hair  which 
fell  over  the  pillow  and  were  tied  with  bits  of  shoe 
string  at  the  end.  Mrs.  Steinberg  had  no  sheets,  but 
lay  between  stiff  blankets  which  looked  overmuch 
used,  and  the  hard,  cotton-stuffed  pillow  was  without  a 
case.  Beatrice  was  too  practical  minded  to  expend 
sympathy  upon  that  particular  score.  The  child- 
mother  did  not  feel  the  want  of  bed  linen.  But  it  was 
a  pity  that  there  was  no  better  nurse  than  old  Mrs. 
Dome,  who  was,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  an  erratic  and  un- 
dependable  creature,  rather  infirm,  and  apparently  not 
very  amiable.  Beatrice  had  learned  from  Lester  that 
the  woman  possessed  a  fairly  good  little  cottage  on  the 
outskirts  of  Staunton,  and  she  asked  now  why  Mrs. 
Steinberg  had  not  gone  there  for  the  birth  of  the 
baby.  Mrs.  Dome  explained  that  she  had  insisted 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  99 

upon  staying  in  the  room  which  had  been  her  home 
since  her  marriage. 

"  My  husband  — "  said  the  old  creature,  abruptly,  and 
entirely  without  preface  — "  my  husband  he  was  kilt, 
too.  He  worked  in  the  blast  furnace.  There  was  a 
hang  fell  and  the  lid  come  off.  He  was  burnt  up,  and 
so  was  four  other  men.  I  never  seen  him.  There 
was  nothin'  to  see."  She  gave  it  without  apparent  feel 
ing,  as  if  the  horror  had,  by  long  dwelling  upon  it, 
grown  to  be  a  fact  of  her  existence,  like  another. 
"  The  blast  furnaces  was  worse  in  them  days,"  she 
added,  "  but  there  wasn't  no  need  for  that  accident. 
Only  they  was  too  busy  making  money  to  close  down 
for  repairs."  She  turned  upon  Beatrice  sharply.  "  You 
know  what  the  damage  to  that  furnace  was  ?  Thirty- 
five  dollars.  That's  all  the  lives  of  five  men  ever 
cost  the  company.  Cheap,  ain't  they  ?  Cheaper'n 
mules  !  " 

And  forthwith  she  became  as  silent  as  she  had  been 
garrulous.  Beatrice  made  haste  to  escape  another  out 
burst  by  concluding  arrangements  for  furnishing  Mrs. 
Steinberg  with  necessaries.  She  succeeded,  too,  in  get 
ting  the  grandmother  to  agree  to  accepting  the  help  of 
a  woman  living  in  the  building,  whom  Beatrice  offered 
to  pay  for  occasional  services.  Then  she  went  down 
the  wide  but  dirty  stairs  and  into  the  street. 

As  she  came  upon  the  sidewalk  she  saw  in  front  of 
another  of  the  entrances  Manning,  who  stood  talking 


100  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

to  some  children.  He  also  had  seen  her,  and  had  smiled 
in  quick  appreciation  of  the  figure  he  must  present  with 
the  four  urchins  clustered  before  him,  and  hanging 
upon  his  words,  even  to  the  baby  in  Nettie's  arms, 
which  stared  with  its  grotesquely  large  eyes  widely 
opened  and  fixed. 

Beatrice  stopped  and  spoke  to  him.  On  the  instant 
Nettie  looked  her  over  with  undisguised  resentment 
and  mistrust.  She  knew  well  enough  who  it  was. 
There  was  little  that  Nettie  did  not  know  concerning 
what  went  on  at  Staunton.  She  had  her  own  opinions, 
too.  One  of  these  was  a  dislike  for  Miss  Tennant, 
based  not  upon  acquaintance,  but  entirely  upon  the 
fact  that  she  was  rich.  Nettie's  inclination  was  com 
munistic,  not  to  say  anarchistic.  She  was  not  pleased 
now  to  see  her  big  cousin  talking  to  Beatrice.  It  was 
defection  to  the  natural  enemy.  And  to  make  it  worse, 
Manning  turned  and  laid  his  hand  upon  her  own  head. 
*'  This  is  a  second  cousin  of  mine,"  he  said,  "  Nettie 
Farraday  —  and  these  are  more  of  the  same. "  Nettie 
objected  exceedingly  to  what  she  felt  to  be  patronizing. 
She  ducked  her  head  and  drew  back.  Miss  Tennant's 
questions  about  the  baby  she  answered  under  protest,  all 
the  while  keeping  that  distinctly  unattractive  piece  of 
luckless  humanity  held  close  in  her  thin  arms  and  out 
of  reach  of  possible  touch  from  the  gloved  fingers. 

After  a  minute  Beatrice  started  to  go  on.     Somewhat 
to  her  astonishment  Manning  fell  into  step  beside  her. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  101 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  allowed  himself  an 
action  even  thus  far  suggesting  equality  or  familiarity. 

The  reason  for  it  he  came  to  as  directly  as  it  was 
his  habit  to  come  to  all  subjects,  without  circumlocu 
tion  or  waste  of  words.  It  was  that  he  did  not  think 
it  advisable  for  her  to  be  about  Staunton,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  that  she  detected  an  undertone  of  more 
than  necessary  concern.  She  took  it  as  due,  in  a  cer 
tain  measure,  to  interest  in  herself  personally,  but 
fully  as  much  to  interest  in  maintaining  his  own  credit 
and  that  of  his  cause,  before  such  portion  of  the  world 
as  took  heed  of  events  in  Staunton  and  the  surrounding 
territory.  That  credit  would  naturally  suffer  severely 
were  any  harm  to  befall  herself.  She  told  him  what 
Lester  had  written,  and  also  that  she  had  her  fath 
er's  permission  to  come  into  the  town.  He  was  not 
satisfied. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  stubbornly,  "  the  streets  are  well 
patrolled,  and  just  now  there  is  good  order.  You  are 
safe  enough  from  the  workingmen, —  the  white  ones,  at 
any  rate.  But  there  is  no  being  sure  of  the  foreigners 
and  the  lower  kind  of  day-laborers." 

Beatrice  offered  that  it  was  impossible  for  any  one  to 
bear  her  ill-will. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  it  is  not.  They  do  bear  you  a  good 
deal  of  ill-will,  some  of  them." 

She  reflected  that  he  was  not  at  any  pains  to  flatter 
her  as  to  her  universal  popularity. 


102  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

"  And  the  smallest  thing  is  likely  to  set  the  foreign 
ers  off,  too,"  he  warned.  "Just  now,  for  instance,  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  make  them  believe  that  it  is  a 
government  inspector  who  is  in  the  armor-plate  depart 
ment  with  Mr.  Durran  and  not  a  Pinkerton.  They 
are  working  themselves  up  over  that.  At  the  best  you 
are  liable  to  insult  at  any  moment." 

Beatrice,  however,  was  not  one  of  the  women  who 
feel  their  self-respect  so  frail  as  to  crumble  away  at  the 
breath  of  an  unpleasant  word.  And  it  had  yet  to  come 
to  her  knowledge  that  an  unprotected  woman  going 
quietly  upon  her  own  way  with  intent  to  do  good  work 
had  met  with  serious  ill-treatment.  "I  hardly  think 
I  shall  be  troubled,"  she  said.  "In  any  case,  such 
people  as  little  Mrs.  Steinberg  and  her  baby  have  to  be 
attended  to." 

He  did  not  answer.  He  walked  along  beside  her  and 
looked  down  at  the  head,  with  its  fair  brown  hair  show 
ing  beneath  the  hat.  His  face  went  gradually  quite 
white.  She  raised  her  eyes  and  met  his.  They  fell 
again  quickly. 

At  the  corner  where  she  was  to  take  the  street-car 
she  stopped.  Down  at  the  end  of  the  street,  a  few 
squares  away,  was  gathered  a  small  crowd  of  men. 
Manning  pointed  to  them.  "  Those,  "  he  said,  "  are 
some  of  the  foreigners  and  toughs." 

Her  first  thought  was  for  Durran,  and  she  uttered  it. 
Would  he  come  out  through  that  gateway  ? 


CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WOULD  103 

"  I  have  sent  some  committee  members  to  look  after 
him,"  answered  Manning,  coldly.  "He  will  be  safer 
than  if  he  had  a  guard  of  watchmen." 

She  felt  the  constraint  which  had  come  between 
them,  and,  with  a  nervousness  which  was  most  unusual 
with  her,  fingered  the  wilted  roses  in  her  belt.  One 
broke  off  and  fell  upon  the  sidewalk.  The  car  came 
around  the  corner  above,  and,  glad  to  see  it  approach, 
she  made  a  movement  to  go  out  into  the  street.  She 
gave  Manning  her  hand  as  she  said  good-by.  She 
could  feel  the  force  which  was  holding  his  steady. 

When  she  took  her  seat  in  the  car  she  looked  back. 
Manning  had  turned  to  go  down  where  the  angry 
crowd  was  gathered  about  the  stockade  gate.  He  was 
closing  a  large  leathern  pocket  case  and  returning  it  to 
his  pocket.  Something  made  her  glance  at  the  spot 
where  the  wilted  yellow  rose  had  fallen.  It  was  gone. 
And  she  understood  —  beyond  all  hope  of  mistake. 

In  an  upper  window  of  the  Kemble  cottage,  over 
looking  the  corner  where  the  two  had  stood,  Mrs. 
Kemble,  hidden  by  a  dingy  lace  curtain,  was  knotting 
the  cord  of  the  shade  with  fingers  which  trembled  and 
were  very  cold. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Much  of  the  disputes  and  consequently  many  of  the  inconven 
iences  of  this  world  arise  from  the  strange  difficulty  that  men  find 
in  understanding  each  others'  meaning.  —  Lord  Lyttleton's  Letters. 

SOOT-SOAKED  roofs  and  a  narrow,  gray  street  were 
the  only  prospect  from  Tennant's  office.  And  Durran, 
not  finding  it  pleasant,  went  from  it  back  to  Tennant's 
desk.  The  latter,  according  to  the  man  who  guarded 
the  door,  might  be  counted  upon  to  return  within  the 
next  quarter  of  an  hour.  In  the  meanwhile  Durran 
took  up  a  newspaper  which  lay  upon  the  desk.  It  was 
not  one  that  he  himself  was  in  the  habit  of  reading,  its 
policy  being  that  of  catering  to  the  least  desirable 
element  in  the  populace,  and  he  was  not  a  little  sur 
prised  to  see  it  here.  The  front  page,  however,  told 
him  at  first  glance  why  Tennant  had  found  it  interest 
ing.  The  company  president  was  not  indifferent  to 
public  opinion,  might  even  indeed  have  been  suspected 
of  being  sensitive  to  it ;  and  Durran,  as  he  glanced 
over  the  two  columns  of  rather  cleverly  handled  abuse, 
reflected  that  his  superior  could  hardly  have  relished 
it.  On  the  strength  of  being  head  of  a  corporation 
which  paid  out  many  millions  in  wages  annually, 
and  upon  which  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  souls 

104 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  105 

were  directly  and  indirectly  dependant,  Tennant  was, 
he  knew,  prone  to  regard  himself  as  an  institution  of 
the  land,  as  a  blessing  to  labor,  and  not  the  enemy 
thereof  which  some  endeavored  to  make  him  appear. 

While  he  was  still  reading  the  article,  Tennant  came 
in. 

"  It  seems  — "  he  said,  as  he  laid  his  hat  upon  a 
table  and  held  out  his  hand  to  the  manager — "it 
seems  that  the  union  thug  who  murders  and  maims 
and  sows  dynamite  sticks  broadcast,  is  an  agreeable 
character  compared  to  the  man  who  works  up  in  a 
successful  business  and  attends  to  that."  He  mo 
tioned  toward  the  paper  which  Durran  had  thrown 
on  a  chair.  There  was  a  half  smile  on  the  thin  lips 
under  the  thin,  gray  mustache,  and  he  betrayed  no 
heat  or  exasperation.  Yet  Durran  believed  that  he 
was  intensely  annoyed,  and  it  was  justifiable,  in  a  great 
degree,  that  he  should  be  so.  For,  after  all,  he  had 
done  much  good  with  his  wealth  and  power,  and  had 
put  time  to  planning  and  carrying  out  his  charities,  — 
time  which  most  men  so  occupied  would  have  be 
grudged.  In  the  beginning  of  his  affluence  he  had 
attempted  paternalism,  but  the  workmen's  attitude 
toward  that  had  not  been  encouraging.  Since  there 
is  nothing  more  exasperating  to  the  man  who  believes 
he  has  rights  than  to  bestow  upon  him  favors,  they 
had  rather  resented  any  distant  approach  to  feudal 
relationship  with  the  master.  They  had  let  it  be 


106  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

understood  that  Tennant  might  look  after  his  own  in 
terests —  and  probably  would  —  while  they  could  take 
care  of  their  own. 

He  had  built  a  model  tenement  and  several  cottages, 
and  had  seen  them,  in  a  year,  far  greater  wrecks  of 
dilapidation  than  any  houses  which  the  workingmen 
built  for  themselves  or  rented  from  some  mere  specu 
lator.  He  had  worked  for  and  even  contributed  to  the 
proper  sanitation  of  Staunton  and  others  of  the  steel- 
mill  towns  in  which  he  was  interested,  and  had  met 
with  almost  complete  lack  of  thanks  or  appreciation. 
To  feel  himself  compelled  by  conscience  to  gratitude 
is  not  pleasing  to  the  American  or  him  who  has 
imbibed  the  national  spirit  to  even  a  small  extent. 
He  is  restive  under  a  sense  of  obligation,  in  whatsoever 
class  he  be  found.  Thereafter  Tennant  had  decided 
to  confine  his  benefits  to  more  or  less  worthy  in 
dividual  cases,  and  to  caring  for  the  sick  and  injured. 
He  had  raised  a  permanent  relief  and  hospital  fund 
in  the  company,  contributing  to  it  largely  from  his 
own  private  purse.  The  motives  for  even  this,  the 
paper  which  Durran  had  just  put  aside  turned  to  a 
subject  for  jeers  and  quibbling. 

"  The  spirit  of  the  American  press  is  pretty  gener 
ally  a  nasty  thing,"  said  Durran,  answering  Tennant's 
particularizing  with  a  generality.  "It  is  vulgar  and 
contemptible,  cringing  to  one  side  or  another." 

Tennant   went   to   his  desk    chair  and  sitting  in  it 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  107 

looked  into  a  pigeonhole.  He  took  forth  a  scrap  of 
paper,  unfolded  it,  and  held  it  out.  "  Clement  turned 
this  in  a  while  since,"  he  said.  "It  was  passed  at 
a  secret  session  of  the  advisory  committee  yesterday 
afternoon." 

Durran,  still  standing,  read  it  aloud  :  "  Under  no 
circumstances  will  we  permit  these  mills  to  be  run  by 
non-union  men.  We  have  already  selected  men  to  seek 
employment  at  the  mills  as  often  as  they  can.  These 
emissaries  of  ours  are  instructed,  and  have  been  sworn, 
to  carry  out  our  orders  in  consummation  of  the  policy 
agreed  upon.  When  we  are  sure  that  there  is  no 
longer  any  hope  for  us  in  these  mills,  our  men  will 
place  explosives  where  they  will  do  the  most  effec 
tual  damage.  We  must  either  control  or  wreck  the 
property." 

Durran  looked  up.  "  You  do  not  think,  I  suppose, 
that  this  is  worth  the  untidy  paper  it  is  written 
upon  ?  " 

Tennant  could  see  no  reason  for  disbelieving  it. 
"It  is  the  basis  of  their  whole  policy  —  the  whole 
union  policy.  Inoculate  them  once  with  the  union 
virus  and  each  one  of  them  becomes  a  murderer  and  an 
anarchist  in  his  heart." 

"  Isn't  that  rather  sweeping  when  you  consider  that 
you  are  speaking  of  about  a  twelfth  or  more  of  our 
voting  population,  who  are  for  the  most  part  average 
good  citizens  ?  "  inquired  Durran.  "  But  this  thing," 


108  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

he  went  on,  touching  the  piece  of  paper  in  his  hand, 
"  is  a  fabrication,  on  the  face  of  it.  I  am  not  doubting 
that  there  are  plenty  of  men  over  there  who  would  like 
to  blow  up  the  plant,  and  us,  too.  But  most  of  the 
committee  members  are  decent  fellows.  And  the  ones 
who  aren't  would  never  be  able  to  get  this  passed.  It 
may  have  been  proposed,  but  you  may  be  sure  that  it 
wasn't  approved.  Manning  would  have  resigned  his 
chairmanship  if  it  had  been." 

"  There  has,"  said  Tennant,  "  been  dynamite  used  at 
the  mills  before."  He  spoke  of  the  fight  in  the  past, 
as  Durran  knew.  "It  could  hardly  be  repeated,  — " 
the  latter  put  it  away,  — "  all  the  better  and  older 
unions  have  educated  themselves  away  from  that  sort 
of  thing,  —  at  any  rate  among  the  accredited  leaders. 
Of  course  the  rank  and  file  can't  be  answered  for  even 
yet.  But  this  document,"  he  smiled  ironically,  "  is  sup 
posed  to  be  the  official  utterance  of  leaders.  Now  here, 
though,"  he  said,  "  is  something  genuine.  I  received 
it  last  evening." 

It  was  a  note  from  Manning  written  on  paper 
stamped  with  the  advisory  committee's  address,  and  it 
set  forth  briefly  that  a  rumor  was  circulating  to  the 
effect  that  several  hundred  men  were  to  be  brought 
into  the  plant  from  distant  points,  and  that  an  attempt 
was  to  be  made  to  start  the  mills  with  those  and  such 
non-union  men  as  were  now  in  Staunton.  It  advised 
that  trouble  would  almost  inevitably  result.  "  If  we 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD  109 

attempt  to  peaceably  run  our  own  mills  entirely  within 
our  legal  rights,"  observed  Tennant,  with  calm  cynicism, 
"  there  will  be  trouble.  It  is  certainly  a  curious  con 
dition  of  affairs." 

"  The  other  swing  of  the  pendulum  from  the  not  so 
remote  period  when  the  home  of  the  peasant  might 
be  laid  waste  and  even  his  body  sacrificed  in  the  set 
tling  of  some  private  tiff  between  his  liege  and  some 
other  noble.  The  conception  of  right  divine  is  under 
going  transition,"  suggested  Durran,  a  taste  for  the 
philosophy  of  history  getting  the  better  of  prudence 
and  business  wisdom. 

Tennant  chose  to  appear  to  ignore  it.  "  What  is  to 
be  expected  with  the  press  taking  that  attitude  ?  —  "he 
glanced  toward  the  news  sheet,  —  "  and  congressmen 
uttering  such  sentiments  as  that  'property  is  held 
subject  to  the  correlative  rights  of  those  without  whose 
services  it  would  be  valueless '  ?  " 

"  They  have  the  law  with  them  in  all  they  have  done 
so  far — the  men,"  —  Durran  brought  it  back  to  the  ac 
tual  facts.  "Manning  has  been  as  shrewd  as  we  usually 
are  ourselves  about  keeping  within  limits." 

"  Law  ?  "  Tennant  scoffed  at  it.  "Mob  law,  abetted 
by  corrupt  officials  !  " 

"  Well,  they  look  on  ours  largely  as  plutocratic  law, 
upheld  by  venal  courts."  He  returned  once  more  to 
the  concrete.  "  But  this  note  of  Manning's  is  meant, 
as  I  take  it,  for  a  move  to  avoid  trouble,  to  prepare  us, 


110  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WOULD 

—  not  as  a  threat.  It  may  be  that  he  will  be  overruled 
by  the  majority,  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  he  will 
do  his  best  for  peace  himself.  He  is  not  a  common 
agitator." 

"  There  is  but  one  Manning,  and  Durran  is  his 
prophet,"  said  Tennant,  suavely. 

He  lighted  a  cigar  and  bent  over  to  throw  the  match 
into  the  waste-basket.  His  office  was  scrupulously 
neat.  "  I  am  sorry  you  don't  smoke,"  he  said.  Then 
he  returned  to  the  central  topic.  "I  saw  an  English 
despatch  in  the  papers  the  other  day,"  he  said.  "  It 
remarked  that  we  should  probably  have  to  call  out  the 
militia  —  '  concerning  which  there  was  some  doubt  if  it 
would  come.'  I  entertain  doubts  myself.  An  article 
in  the  association's  journal  yesterday  gave  evidence  of 
the  law-abiding  and  patriotic  spirit  of  the  union  men  in 
speaking  of  the  national  guard  as  a  state  organization 
used  solely  in  the  interests  of  capital,  to  break  strikes 
and  shoot  union  sympathizers." 

Durran  nodded.  "  We  have  seen  that  the  case  in 
at  least  one  state,  too  —  with  more  than  a  suspicion 
that  the  militia  was  paid  by  the  capitalist.  However, 
that  evil  attitude  is  fortunately  being  discouraged  as  a 
policy  by  the  leaders.  Certainly,  though,"  he  added, 
reverting  to  the  present  situation,  "  you  can't  call  out 
the  militia  against  men  who  —  like  the  little  boy  — 
'ain't  doing  nothing." 

"  They  will  do  something,"  prognosticated  Tennant, 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  111 

confidently,  "as  soon  as  the  new  men  are  brought  in.'* 
He  drew  the  end  of  his  cigar  to  a  red  glow.  "The 
gods  and  Manning  have  made  them  mad ;  their  de 
struction  will  be  only  a  matter  of  time.  They  were 
mad  once  before,"  he  added,  "  and  it  resulted  in  men 
who  had  been  getting  fabulous  wages  having  to  come 
down  to  a  reasonable  level." 

"  Wasn't  it  rather  "  —  Durran  put  the  question  as  in 
a  spirit  of  amicable  discussion — "the  objection  to  the 
prospect  of  the  come-down  which  induced  the  mad 
ness  ?  That  is  how  it  reads  in  the  records  of  the  time 
and  in  congressional  reports." 

He  was  perfectly  conscious  that  Tennant  was  already 
annoyed  with  him,  and  that  he  was,  by  every  word  he 
now  said,  adding  to  the  annoyance  in  a  manner  hardly 
justifiable  in  a  subordinate.  But  the  argumentative  was 
a  strong  trait  in  his  character.  Tennant  managed  to 
arouse  it  almost  invariably.  Durran  prided  himself 
upon  his  innate  democracy,  but  it  was  not  entirely 
equal  to  submitting  tamely  to  the  domineering  person 
ality  of  a  man  risen  from  the  working  classes.  Tennant 
was,  in  point  of  fact,  not  a  little  given  to  trying  to 
exact  homage  and  subservience  from  his  underlings. 
Most  of  these  acquiesced;  but  Durran,  while  he  was 
ready  to  run  the  plant  as  the  president  should  dictate, 
was  not  prepared  to  think  and  speak  after  the  same 
fashion,  —  neither  to  hold  his  tongue.  It  was  Tennant 
who  had  begun  a  discussion  off  the  lines  of  business, 


112  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

to  which  Durran  himself  would  have  preferred  to  keep 
strictly.  The  latter  foresaw  that  he  would  probably 
have  to  tender  his  resignation  from  his  present  position 
before  very  long.  He  did  not  greatly  care,  as  he  could 
command  another  as  good  immediately,  and  he  felt  him 
self  critical  and  a  good  deal  opposed  to  the  policy  of 
the  company.  The  only  drawback  was  the  fact  that  it 
was  Beatrice's  father  he  was  vexing. 

He  had  been  standing  all  the  while  and  walking 
slowly  back  and  forth  over  a  few  feet  of  the  dark 
green  carpet.  He  drew  a  chair  near  to  the  desk 
and  sat  down. 

"The  unions,"  said  Tennant,  who  was  becoming 
more  angry  than  he  outwardly  showed,  and  was,  as 
a  consequence,  guilty  of  unwisdom,  "are  going  to 
ruin  this  country  and  bring  it  to  where  England  was 
in  the  sixteenth  century  when  the  guilds  had  con 
trol  and  made  so  many  restrictions  and  manipulated 
prices  to  such  an  extent  that  industry  was  driven  out 
of  the  chartered  towns." 

"  On  the  other  hand,"  remarked  Durran,  "  there 
are  those  who  hold  that  what  is  going  to  bring  us 
to  a  bad  end  is  —  well,  the  idea  which  is  exempli 
fied  in  our  selling  steel  rails  to  foreign  business  for 
almost  half  as  much  as  we  market  them  in  this 
country." 

Tennant  reached  for  an  ash  receiver  and  knocked 
the  ashes  from  his  cigar.  There  was  still  on  his 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  113 

lips  the  thin  smile  of  half  amusement.  "It  is  how 
we  have  got  the  commercial  supremacy  of  the 
world  and  an  unexampled  prosperity,  however,"  he 
said  smoothly.  "As  for  the  abstract  morality  of  it, 
or  the  long-run  view,  I  am  not  concerning  myself 
with  that.  But  I  am  ready  to  profit  by  the  condi 
tions  which  allow  it,  —  even  to  further  them."  That 
he  had  done  his  utmost  to  further  them,  time  and 
again,  was  a  knowledge  which  Durran  shared  with  the 
public.  "However,"  said  Tennant,  sitting  erect  in 
his  chair,  putting  down  the  unfinished  cigar,  and 
signifying  by  every  line  of  his  spare,  active  figure 
that  an  end  had  come  to  objectless  discussion, 
"this  is  not  to  the  purpose."  It  was  a  chief  cause 
for  his  now  scarcely  covert  annoyance  that  he 
allowed  himself  to  fall  into  —  indeed,  always  pro 
voked —  these  passages  with  Durran.  He  considered 
his  weaknesses  very  few.  That  this  was  one  of 
them  irritated  him.  Yet  —  since  it  is  rarely  with 
one's  self  that  one  is  displeased  because  of  a  weak 
ness,  but  with  him  to  whom  one  manifests  it  —  the 
sight  of  Durran  present,  or  the  thought  of  him 
absent,  had  of  late  roused  more  and  more  antagonism. 
"  And  now,"  he  said,  a  trifle  curtly,  and  with  the 
tone  of  one  who  recalls  an  inferior  to  his  place, 
"  I  believe  that  what  you  wished  to  see  me  about 
was  the  plans  for  bringing  in  the  new  men  ?  " 


CHAPTER   IX 

There  is  no  man  whose  soul  and  will  and  meaning 
Stand  forth  as  outward  things  for  all  to  see. 

—  SOPHOCLES.    Antigone. 

THE  red  brick  house  in  which  Manning  lived  had 
been,  seventy-five  years  before,  a  decent  farmhouse 
overlooking  a  green-banked,  lonely  river.  Since  then 
it  had  been  repaired  as  it  fell  into  decay,  and  altered 
to  meet  changing  requirements.  So  that  where  had 
once  been  a  wide  staircase  was  now  a  narrow  flight  in 
a  narrow  passage.  Yet  the  first  Dutch  farm  mistress 
could  hardly  have  kept  the  place  more  clean  than 
did  the  excellent  German  woman  who  was  the  pres 
ent  possessor. 

Manning's  room  was  at  the  front,  with  an  outlook 
upon  a  row  of  small  structures  across  the  street, 
well  overgrown  with  Virginia  creeper  and  ivy. 
The  complete  lack  of  anything  beyond  necessary 
furniture,  and  piles  of  books,  papers,  and  pamphlets, 
made  the  room  a  source  of  much  satisfaction  to  the 
proprietress,  whose  other  lodgers  were  less  austere  in 
their  tastes,  and  more  tawdry.  The  walls  here  were 
freshly  whitened  once  a  year,  and  were  devoid  of 
any  decorations.  The  windows  had  no  curtains,  but 

1H 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  115 

only  green  shades,  and  a  large  desk  table  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  bare  floor.  Altogether  —  except  for 
the  painted  iron  bunk  —  the  room  presented  much 
the  appearance  of  an  office  uncompromisingly  for 
work. 

Manning  sat  at  the  desk  now,  resting  one  arm  upon 
it,  and  looking  out  through  the  open  window,  not 
seeing,  however,  the  green-covered  walls  across  the 
street. 

The  rumor  was  spreading  and  gaining  credence  that 
Tennant  was  soon  to  bring  new  men  to  Staunton 
and  start  up  the  mills  with  inexperienced  hands.  It 
was  a  rumor  which  Manning  himself  saw  no  reason 
to  doubt  —  the  only  one,  indeed,  to  have  been  ex 
pected.  It  was  not  to  have  been  supposed  that 
after  a  few  weeks,  or  even  months,  the  company  would 
meekly  open  its  gates  again,  and  take  back  its  old  men 
upon  any  terms  these  should  choose  to  set.  Yet  the 
report  that  the  black  sheep  were  to  be  imported  had  ap 
peared  to  strike  most  of  the  Staunton  men  with  all  the 
force  of  the  completely  unexpected,  and  to  have  called 
forth  a  hot  indignation  as  if  at  an  unmerited  outrage  — 
one  which  was  not  to  be  borne  by  manhood  without 
retaliation,  bloodshed,  and  wrecking.  Those,  and  they 
were  nearly  all,  who  had  been  too  short-sighted  to 
fully  realize  that  the  company  would  try  to  replace 
them  were  now  as  wanting  in  vision  for  what  would 
inevitably  be  to  themselves  and  their  cause  the  con- 


116  CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD 

sequences  of  violence.  That  the  words  which  Clement 
had  written  out  for  Tennant  the  afternoon  before  had 
been  only  the  substance  of  a  proposed  resolution,  and 
not  a  passed  one,  had  required  effort  on  the  part  of 
Manning  himself  and  the  few  conservative,  level 
headed  men  upon  whom  he  felt  able  to  rely.  The 
spirit  which  the  resolution  had  manifested  was  wide 
spread.  It  was  becoming  the  open  assertion  that  the 
company  should  not  run  its  mills,  that  any  men  who 
might  be  brought  in  should  be  driven  off  with  the 
Mosaic  persuasion,  "  Else  thou  shalt  surely  die."  A  self- 
constituted  committee  had  taken  it  upon  itself  to  make 
secret  visits  to  the  trainmen  of  the  lines  running  out 
of  Staunton  and  to  threaten  them  with  shooting  if  they 
were  to  carry  steel  from  the  plant.  A  good  deal  of 
this  Manning  knew  to  be  due  to  Lockhart's  influence, 
the  latter  being  about  again  and  as  active  as  his  con 
dition  permitted. 

The  reaction  from  the  efforts  to  put  down  the 
temper  of  lawlessness,  the  inevitable  realization  of 
the  want  of  common  intelligence  with  which  he  had 
to  deal,  had  brought  upon  Manning  a  fit  of  tired 
and  angry  disgust.  It  had  been  shown  to  him  more 
unmistakably  than  ever  that  the  average  human 
creature,  come  to  the  age  where  reason  and  philoso 
phy  might  justly  be  expected,  plays  the  game  of 
life  with  all  the  unwillingness  to  accept  consequences 
that  is  shown  by  the  peevish  boy  who  having  lost  his 


CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WORLD  117 

marbles  "  for  keeps,"  cries  and  fights  to  have  them  back 
again.  The  men  who,  like  himself,  had  seen  fit  to 
declare  for  the  union,  and  who  should  have  known 
as  well  as  he  what  the  results  would  be,  were  now 
ready  to  struggle  and  beat  against  the  Fate  which 
held  the  privileges  they  had  put  up  on  the  chance  of 
forfeit. 

In  his  contemptuous  anger  at  the  cowardice,  he  had 
thought  of  throwing  over  the  leadership.  Then  the 
power  he  possessed  to  judge  and  estimate  others  with 
considerable  exactness  had  made  him  see  with  as  uncom 
promising  a  vision  that  to  shirk  this  responsibility 
which  he  had  accepted  and  sought  would  be  that 
thing  itself  which  he  condemned.  He  had  argued  it 
out  with  himself  as  he  had  sat  at  the  desk  looking 
at  the  vine  tracing  on  the  gray  wooden  fronts.  And 
he  saw  it  as  the  only  course  creditable  to  himself  that 
he  should  remain  in  command  — whether  to  success 
or  defeat,  —  through  mutiny,  defection,  or  desertion,  if 
those  should  come.  And  he  was  forced  to  believe 
that  they  would. 

Having  made  his  determination,  he  tipped  back  his 
chair  and,  clasping  his  hands  behind  his  head,  fell  to 
thinking  of  much  in  the  present  which  had  no  con 
nection  with  the  thickening  troubles  in  the  advisory 
committee.  As  the  thought  of  those  had  led  him  to 
the  future,  the  thought  of  this  —  which  had  no  future 
for  him — led  backward  to  the  past.  He  took  his 


118  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

hands  from  behind  his  head,  and  getting  a  ring  of 
keys  from  his  pocket  unlocked  a  drawer  of  the  desk. 
A  black  tin  despatch-box  was  in  the  drawer.  He 
lifted  it  out  and  unlocked  it  also. 

There  were  papers  and  letters  of  businesslike  ap 
pearance,  a  little  packet  of  clippings,  and  a  photograph 
case  of  crimson  velvet.  He  took  out  the  packet  and, 
untying  it,  looked  at  the  clippings.  They  were  pic 
tures  of  Beatrice  Tennant  cut  from  magazines  and 
journals.  One  or  two  had  appeared  within  the  last 
year,  a  couple  more  at  the  time  she  had  come  back  from 
school.  She  was  given  as  a  type  of  her  country's  fair 
womanhood.  In  the  later  ones  the  gravity  and  self- 
possession,  the  sense  of  responsibility,  had  become 
more  apparent  on  her  face  than  they  were  in  those 
taken  at  the  close  of  her  school  days.  He  laid  them 
together  again  and  put  them  back.  Then  he  took  out 
the  velvet  case.  There  was  in  it  the  tintype  of  a 
little  girl  with  oval  face  and  folded  hands,  and  a  long, 
heavy  braid  of  hair,  pulled  forward  to  hang  over  the 
child's  narrow  shoulders.  Beatrice  had  had  it  taken 
with  some  of  the  pocket-money  her  father  was  then 
beginning  to  give  her  liberally.  And  she  had  brought 
it  to  his  mother  one  day  not  long  before  Tennant  had 
moved  away  from  the  town  to  the  city.  After  his 
mother's  death  Manning  had  kept  it,  at  first  because 
it  had  been  his  mother's,  but  later  on  because  it  was 
a  picture  of  Beatrice.  He  held  it  in  the  hollow  of  his 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  119 

work-hardened  palm  and  looked  at  it.  Then  he 
closed  the  case  and  put  it  into  the  box,  locking  it 
away  again.  And  even  at  the  moment  there  was  the 
sound  of  pattering,  bare  feet  coming  toward  his  room. 
It  seemed  to  him  like  the  footfalls  of  children,  but  no 
children  lived  in  the  house.  A  hand  fumbled  for  the 
knob,  found  it,  and  opened  the  door. . 

The  amenity  of  knocking  did  not  enter  into  Nettie 
Farraday's  conception  of  things.  And  it  was  she 
who  stood  in  the  dark  hall,  looking  into  the  room. 
In  her  arms  was  the  baby,  and  the  two  small  boys 
hung  close  behind  her.  It  was  several  days  since 
Manning  had  seen  them,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
all  —  and  chiefly  Nettie  —  looked  more  cruelly  thin 
than  ever.  Nettie's  frock  hung  as  if  on  a  wire 
frame,  and  her  bare  legs  and  forearms  were  mere 
bones.  Something  in  the  expression  of  her  face 
made  him  jump  up  and  go  to  her.  He  took  the  baby 
out  of  her  arms.  She  was  gasping  for  breath,  and  as 
she  walked  seemed  not  quite  sure  of  keeping  her  bal 
ance.  He  lifted  a  chair  in  one  hand  and  put  it  near 
his  own  for  her.  She  sat  in  it  and  got  her  breath. 
The  two  boys  brought  up  either  side. 

Manning  questioned  her,  but  he  knew  without  her 
answer  what  the  trouble  was.  She  pointed  to  the 
baby  still  in  his  arms.  "Never  you  mind  about 
me,"  she  said,  "look  at  that  kid.  What's  the 
matter  with  her?  She's  starvin'." 


120  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOBLD 

He  did  look  at  it.  It  stared  up  at  him  dully,  with 
solemn  eyes  that  were  red-lidded  and  lifeless.  The 
skin  was  tight  and  blue  across  its  large  forehead. 
Its  poor  little  legs  looked  brittle  enough  to  snap. 
There  was  none  of  the  winsome  chubbiness  of  a  luckier 
babyhood.  It  was  an  ugly  small  thing.  He  could  not 
help  thinking  of  that,  much  as  he  pitied  it.  He  gave 
it  back  to  Nettie,  and  it  went  with  the  same  docility 
shown  in  allowing  itself  to  be  given  to  him — the 
docility  of  a  pathetic  and  premature  life  weariness. 
"You  ought  to  have  come  to  me  long  before  this,"  he 
told  Nettie.  He  got  his  hat  from  where  it  lay  on 
the  mantelshelf.  "  Wait  for  me,"  he  added,  and  went 
out  of  the  room.  Nettie  supposed  that  he  had  gone 
for  food,  and  she  sat  wiping  the  damp  of  weakness 
from  her  face  upon  her  sleeve. 

The  credit  of  Farraday  had  not  been  such  as  to 
admit  of  a  great  deal  of  stretching,  and  a  laborer  who 
was  the  father  of  four  children  and  had  recently  been 
put  to  the  expense  of  a  funeral  was  not  one  to  have 
savings  against  a  day  of  emergency.  Within  the  last 
week  the  stores  had  showed  him  the  amounts  of  his 
bills  and  had  refused  to  add  to  them  further.  Then 
he  had  borrowed  all  that  friends  little  better  pro 
vided  than  himself  had  been  able  to  lend,  and  had 
limped  to  the  shops  with  cash  in  his  cracked  and 
toil-scarred  hands.  He  had  laid  in  supplies  which, 
sparingly  managed,  would,  he  calculated,  suffice  for  the 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOELD  121 

children  through  several  days.  Nettie's  frugality  drew 
them  out  a  scant  meal  or  two  longer  yet.  Thereafter 
the  family  had  lived  by  those  means  which  were  death 
to  any  but  such  as  have  been  always  accustomed  to 
looking  on  less  than  a  couple  of  dollars  a  day  as  a 
competence  for  the  support  of  a  large  and  periodically 
increasing  family.  The  households  of  the  higher  paid 
workmen  still  threw  away  into  the  garbage  boxes 
something  which  Nettie  could  use.  But  the  limit  of 
her  endurance  had  been  reached  that  morning.  The 
garbage  of  the  day  before  had  yielded  only  half  a  loaf 
of  very  dry  bread. 

She  had  sat  on  the  sidewalk  at  the  gutter's  edge, 
with  another  girl,  the  child  of  a  German  open-hearth 
furnaceman,  who  was  not  yet  at  the  end  of  a  good-sized 
savings-bank  account.  The  girl  had  been  eating  a  sau 
sage.  Nettie  had  watched  from  the  corners  of  her  eyes 
like  some  little  starved  cur,  too  scared  to  snatch  the 
food  it  is  dying  for  want  of  ;  but  when  she  had  felt 
that  she  was  being  watched,  she  had  affected  supreme 
indifference.  The  sausage  finished,  the  German  child 
had  suggested  a  game  of  hop-scotch,  the  design  for  which 
was  already  chalked  upon  the  pavement.  Nettie  had 
given  to  the  baby  the  scrap  of  yesterday's  bread-find 
which  should  have  been  her  own  portion.  She  had 
eaten  nothing  for  twenty-four  hours,  and  little  for  days 
previous  to  that.  She  did  not  feel  in  the  least  like 
playing,  but  she  would  not  have  had  the  other  girl 


122  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

suspect  that.  The  strain  of  jumping  and  shouting  had, 
nevertheless,  been  too  much  for  her.  She  had  stopped 
short  in  the  midst  of  the  game,  looking  straight  in  front 
of  her  with  glazed  eyes,  had  staggered  once  or  twice, 
turned  around,  and  flung  forward  on  her  face. 

The  German  mother,  called  by  her  frightened 
daughter,  had  come  out  from  the  tenement  and, 
carrying  Nettie  into  her  room,  had  brought  her  back 
to  consciousness.  "  Hoongry  ?  "  she  asked.  She  did 
not  know  much  English,  but  she  knew  the  meaning  of 
Nettie's  condition,  and  she  was  willing  from  the  gener 
osity  of  the  heart  under  her  ample  bosom  to  give  food 
—  though  food  was  of  infinite  value,  and  her  own 
children  might  yet  have  to  suffer. 

Nettie's  defensive  pride  was  the  master  still,  and 
enabled  her  to  refuse  with  a  perfectly  ungracious  con 
tempt.  "Naw,"  she  said,  taking  herself  out  of  the 
kindly  fat  arms  with  a  jerk.  "I  got  plenty  to  eat." 
And  she  had  gone  out.  But  she  was  afraid  to  play  any 
more.  Instead  she  went  into  the  one  room  in  which 
the  five  of  them  now  lived  and  cooked  and  slept. 
Since  the  mills  had  shut  down  the  other  mere  closet 
which  they  had  rented  until  then  had  been  given  up. 
The  baby  was  there,  on  a  folded  blanket  which  lay  on 
the  bare  boards.  It  had  been  asleep  when  she  had  left 
it,  but  was  now  awake  and  whimpering  weakly.  In 
the  light  of  her  own  recent  experience  Nettie  saw  what 
it  was  near. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD  123 

She  had  thought  of  Manning  more  than  once  since 
she  had  begun  to  be  hungry.  He  was  a  big  and  im 
portant  person,  far  and  away  above  such  as  her  father 
in  the  world.  Yet  he  was  connected  in  her  mind  with 
cakes  and  bakeries,  and  she  had  a  vague  notion  that  he 
could  do  or  get  what  he  pleased.  She  thought  of  him 
now  again  and  remembered  his  relationship  to  them 
selves.  It  would  not  be  the  same  as  taking  food  from 
a  foreign  woman,  and  a  next-door  neighbor  at  that, 
which,  with  a  premature  worldly  wisdom,  Nettie  felt 
made  it  worse.  She  gathered  the  baby  in  her  arms, 
and  finding  the  two  boys,  who  were  in  an  alleyway, 
went  off  in  search  of  her  cousin.  It  had  been  well  for 
her  that  he  was  in  his  room.  As  a  rule,  he  was  seldom 
there  in  the  daytime  just  now.  A  man  whom  she  had 
met,  coming  out  of  the  gate  of  the  erstwhile  farmhouse, 
had  told  her  that  Manning's  quarters  were  on  the  third 
floor  in  front.  She  had  been  dismayed  at  the  thought 
of  the  height,  but  had  climbed  to  it  nevertheless,  depos 
iting  the  baby  and  sitting  down  herself  at  every  dozen 
steps. 

She  looked  around  the  room  as  she  sat  waiting.  It 
did  not  interest  her.  There  were  no  prints  or  chromo 
lithographs,  or  pictures  from  police  and  sporting  papers 
on  the  wall,  such  as  she  had  papered  their  own  room 
with  in  the  tenement.  There  was  almost  nothing 
excepting  the  books  and  papers  piled  on  the  big  desk 
and  on  the  mantelshelf.  Nettie  had  had  just  enough 


124  CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD 

experience  of  books  to  hate  them.  She  had  gone  to  a 
public  school  for  a  while.  But  her  mother's  death,  and 
the  family  cares  which  had  devolved  upon  her  there 
after,  had  cut  short  the  education  she  objected  to. 

Manning  came  in,  bringing  a  bottle  of  milk,  a  bag  of 
crackers,  and  a  pitcher  of  hot  water,  which  he  had 
obtained  from  the  landlady's  private  kitchen.  Milk, 
well  diluted,  and  crackers  were  the  two  things  which 
had  occurred  to  him  as  likely  to  be  best  for  stomachs 
weak  with  emptiness.  And  even  those  he  saw  to  it 
that  they  ate  slowly.  He  put  Nettie  through  a  cate 
chism  the  while.  Where  was  her  father  ? 

"  Lookin'  for  work,"  she  said  ;  "  been  lookin'  for  it 
ever  since  you  lost  him  his  job." 

He  let  the  accusation  pass.  What  had  they  been 
living  upon? 

Nettie  told  him.  "Mostly  nothin'  for  two  days,  an' 
mighty  little  before  that." 

He  surveyed  her  critically.  "  It  seems  to  me,"  he 
commented,  "that  you  look  worse  than  the  others." 

"Oah!"  said  Nettie,  with  sovereign  scorn,  and 
protruding  her  under  lip  in  a  fashion  which  was  not 
winning. 

Manning  insisted.     "  Why  is  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oah,  I  don't,"  she  denied. 

"  I  believe  you  have  been  giving  the  baby  your  food," 
he  accused. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  challenged,  but  her  eyes  shifted  guilt- 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  125 

ily.     "  I  don't  care.     She's  smaller'n  me.     She  ain't  so 
strong." 

"  And  before  that  — "  he  said,  still  sternly,  for  he  knew 
that  any  show  of  feeling  or  sympathy  would  make  her 
unmanageably  restive  —  "  before  that  you  went  without 
your  fair  share  so  that  the  children  and  your  father 
could  have  more." 

Nettie  flared  up.  Perhaps  she  had  done  it  with  the 
children.  She  didn't  care  if  she  had.  "  But  you  ain't 
goin'  to  say  that  dad  et  up  our  meals.  He  ain't  had 
one  at  home  for  two  weeks.  He  says  he  gets  'em  over 
in  the  city  when  he's  huntin'  a  job  ;  but  he's  lyin'.  I 
know  it.  He  stumps  'round  all  day  on  that  game  leg 
of  hisn,"  she  recounted  indignantly,  "an'  at  night  he's 
about  dead.  Say,"  she  demanded  abruptly,  "  when  are 
they  goin'  to  bring  in  the  men,  an'  start  up  the  mills  ?  " 

He  answered  that  he  did  not  know ;  and  he  was  con 
scious  of  feeling  guilty  before  this  brave  and  burdened 
little  person,  that  he  meant  to  do  all  he  could  to  pre 
vent  the  very  thing  to  which  she  looked  forward  as  the 
chance  for  her  crippled  father  to  get  back  to  work,  for 
herself  and  the  small  flock  which  depended  upon  her 
to  be  rescued  from  want.  But  his  justification  lay  in 
doing  what  lay  within  his  power  to  save  children  yet 
unborn  from  the  possibility  of  a  life  like  hers. 

He  inquired  as  to  her  plans  of  livelihood  for  the 
immediate  future. 

"  I  can  get  on  somehow,  —  "  she  put  herself  outside 


126  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

of  the  question,  —  "  but  I  want  you  to  feed  these  here." 
She  moved  her  arm  with  the  gesture  of  a  Cornelia. 
"  They're  kids.  They  can't  hustle." 

It  was  evident  that  she  took  her  big  cousin's  means 
to  be  sufficient  to  meet  not  only  his  own  needs,  but 
theirs  as  well.  Manning  knew  the  state  of  his  affairs 
better.  It  was  a  good  deal  of  a  charge,  this  that  she 
was  putting  upon  him  so  confidently,  but  he  did  not  see 
his  way  to  escaping  it ;  certainly  it  was  not  to  be  laid 
off  on  Nettie's  sharp,  bent  little  shoulders.  For  the 
present  the  four  of  them  had  to  be  fed,  and  he  would 
undertake  it  himself  as  long  as  he  could  before  calling 
it  to  Lester's  attention.  He  could  not  send  them  to  his 
own  boarding-house ;  they  would  never  be  allowed  to 
put  their  ragged,  unkempt  little  bodies  across  the 
threshold  there.  He  remembered  a  cheap  restaurant 
down  by  the  railroad  tracks,  around  the  corner  from 
the  tenement.  He  spoke  of  it  to  Nettie.  "  You  can  all 
go  in  there  twice  a  day  and  get  a  square  meal,"  he  told 
her.  "I'll  talk  to  the  man.  about  it  and  make  it  all 
right." 

"I'll  send  them"  she  said  resolutely,  nodding  her 
head  at  the  boys  and  the  baby. 

"  You'll  go  yourself,"  answered  Manning,  considera 
bly  more  resolute  still,  "or  none  of  you  shall."  She 
agreed  to  it  upon  those  terms.  "Go  there  for  your 
supper  to-night,"  he  ordered.  "  And  now — I'm  busy, 
and  you  had  better  run  along,  all  of  you  youngsters." 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WOULD  127 

She  got  her  family  together,  dragging  the  baby  to 
her  shoulder  with  a  practised  hitch,  and  they  filed  out. 
Manning  disposed  of  the  remains  of  their  meal,  which 
were  only  the  bottle,  the  jug,  the  paper  bag,  and  some 
crumbs.  Then  he  went  to  work  on  a  file  of  papers. 
After  a  few  minutes  there  was  once  more  the  patter  of 
feet  and  a  fumbling  at  the  knob.  Nettie  put  in  her 
head  and  peered  at  him  from  under  her  matted  hair. 
"  Thanks,"  she  said.  And  the  door  was  shut  again. 


CHAPTER  X 

According  to  Bentham  there  is  but  one  motive  possible,  the 
pursuit  of  our  own  enjoyment. 

—  LECKY.    History  of  European  Morals. 

IT  is  near  upon  a  score  of  centuries  now  that 
humanity  has  been  learning  the  lesson  of  that  certain 
beggar  named  Lazarus,  and  the  teaching  has  accom 
plished  this  much,  —  that  we  shudder  at  the  thought 
of  those  kings  and  nobles  who  drank  and  loved  deep 
with  only  a  floor  of  stone  between  themselves  and  the 
starving  captives,  gangrene  gnawed  within  their  dun 
geons.  We  marvel  that  in  days  so  recent  as  to  be 
almost  of  the  present,  they  danced  in  the  Orangerie 
while  the  Bastille  fell,  and  that  twenty-three  theatres 
could  have  been  filled  during  the  nights  which 
heaped  dead  bodies  in  the  Paris  streets.  Yet  we 
have  still  to  recognize  the  irony  of  the  charity  ball 
and  fair,  or  to  even  find  it  unpleasant  that  we  drive 
through  streets  where  loiter  the  saddest  misery  and 
want,  and  pass,  perchance,  up  an  aisle  between  two 
rows  of  the  homeless,  the  hungry  and  criminal,  to 
enter  in  all  our  pride  the  halls  of  festivity. 

The  city  was  at  the  time  so  full  of  those  who  were 
out  of  work,  of  men,  women,  and  children  with  no  roof 

128 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  129 

to  cover  their  heads  through  the  mild  or  raw  spring 
nights,  that  Tennant's  guests  passed  up  such  an  aisle 
as  they  drove  into  his  grounds. 

The  light  of  the  branching  bronze  lamps  above  the 
gates  showed  to  curious  or  angry  eyes  the  vague, 
pale-gowned  forms  of  the  women  in  the  carriages. 
The  price  of  the  costly  raiment  clothing  any  one  of 
them  would  have  served  to  lodge  and  feed  for  the 
night  the  whole  of  the  little  crowd  whose  existence  they 
scarcely  observed,  though  they  saw  momentarily  the 
peering  faces  and  craned  necks,  and  heard  the  voices 
which  commented  or  expostulated  with  the  policemen 
and  footmen  who  were  keeping  the  way  clear. 

Tennant  had  seen  fit  to  consider  the  occasion  of 
his  daughter's  birthday  one  suitable  for  giving  a 
ball,  which  it  was  his  intention  to  have  of  a  mag 
nificence  theretofore  unsurpassed  in  the  city.  Bea 
trice  had  not  attempted  to  dissuade  him,  recognizing 
that  the  only  arguments  she  could  have  advanced 
would  not  have  merited  the  name  after  all,  and 
would  have  been  quite  untenable  against  his  matter 
of  fact.  He  would  have  answered  —  and  with  a 
good  show  of  reason  —  to  the  effect  that  there  was 
no  sufficient  cause,  sentimental  or  otherwise,  to  pre 
vent  his  entertaining  certain  among  his  friends,  merely 
because  some  few  thousand  men  had  elected,  at  the 
instigation  of  bullying  agitators,  to  give  up  well- 
paid  positions  in  a  company  which  treated  them 


130  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

fairly.  An  equal  degree  of  weak-brained  folly  upon 
his  own  part,  of  inability  to  keep  hold  upon  an 
excellent  thing,  would  have  very  shortly  brought 
himself  to  want.  And  in  such  an  event  it  was  not 
to  be  supposed  that  the  workmen  would  forego  their 
own  smokers  and  fancy-dress  dances,  out  of  con 
sideration  for  his  merited  misfortunes. 

Beatrice,  who  knew  the  tenor  of  his  unassailable 
logic  by  experience,  had  known  this  hypothetical 
reply  without  evoking  it.  She  had  realized  that  she 
would  have  nothing  more  worthy  than  a  somewhat 
gratuitous  sentiment  to  put  against  it.  And  senti 
ment  being  a  volatile  essence,  apt  to  vanish  when 
exposed  to  the  cold  air  of  that  which  is  known  as 
common  sense,  she  exposed  hers  before  her  father  as 
seldom  as  before  the  rest  of  her  world. 

As  a  consequence,  the  proposed  ball  was  become  a 
fact  in  the  act  of  being  accomplished,  and  several 
hundred  people  were  in  the  Tennant  mansion. 
Beatrice,  standing  beside  her  father,  received  them. 
And  Valerio  watched  her  from  a  point  of  vantage, 
and  over  the  head  of  a  young  woman  to  whom  he 
talked  the  while. 

The  theory  of  democracy  he,  as  a  man  abreast  of 
his  age,  was  familiar  with,  but  this  practice  of  the 
results  it  made  possible  was  still  a  never  ending 
source  of  wonder  and  surprise  to  him.  In  the  courts 
and  palaces  of  different  lands  he  had  seen  many 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD  131 

women  engaged  as  Miss  Tennant  was  at  the  moment. 
Yet  he  was  unable  to  recall  one  whose  perfection  in 
grace  and  readiness  had  been  more  entire,  whose 
whole  appearance  had  presented  a  more  exquisite 
balance  of  taste  and  individuality. 

And  Tennant  himself  was  better  than  many  a  father 
of  daughters  rightly  proud  of  their  ancestry.  At  the 
distance  from  which  Valeric  observed  it,  there  was  only 
perhaps  a  rather  too  careful  self-repression  which 
betrayed  uncertainty  as  to  his  ability  to  be  at  ease  and 
the  while  correct.  Yet  that  repression  had  become  so 
much  a  second  nature  that  it  counterfeited  acceptably 
the  dignity  of  the  natural. 

And  the  fiction  that  the  severe,  grotesque  lines,  the 
black-and-white  of  evening  dress,  inevitably  bring  out 
the  signs  of  plebeian  birth,  was  set  at  naught.  Tennant 
looked  better  in  this  than  in  his  business  suit. 

Valerio,  with  a  smile  —  which  the  girl  misunder 
stood  and  attributed  to  her  own  words  —  recalled  a  bit 
of  his  Old  Testament  knowledge.  The  great  king  had 
showed  again  his  wisdom,  when  he  had  chosen  the  iron 
worker  as  suitable  to  rise  to  sit  upon  a  throne. 

It  was  a  work  with  an  inherent  honorableness  in  its 
very  suggestion,  like  that  of  tilling  the  soil.  There 
was  about  it  nothing  petty,  belittling,  cheapening  to 
manhood. 

During  all  the  early  part  of  the  evening,  while  he 
waited  until  Beatrice's  duties  should  have  left  her  free, 


132  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

he  talked  with  men  and  women,  who,  if  they  none  of 
them  interested  him  individually,  at  least  did  so  greatly 
as  studies  in  a  type  and  a  condition. 

There  were  among  them  some  few  who  had  means  or 
manners  of  more  than  a  generation's  cultivation.  But 
they  were  greatly  in  the  minority.  Generally  speak 
ing,  all  the  beauty  and  fashion  represented  here  in 
these  new  halls  of  new  riches  was  a  thing  of  mushroom 
growth.  Most  of  the  fathers  he  knew  either  personally 
or  by  report  and  sight.  Their  origin  was,  almost 
without  exception,  such  as  Tennant's  own,  or  what 
seemed  to  him  worse  (though  doubtless  to  them, 
better),  they  had  been  peddling  salesmen,  petty  clerks, 
and  the  like.  Few  presented  Tennant's  good  appear 
ance,  to  be  sure,  yet  they  were  passable.  Their 
daughters  and  in  some  cases  even  their  wives  and 
sons  were  still  more  so.  He  talked  with  the  daughter 
of  Woolmer,  he  with  whose  portrait  the  Spanish  artist 
had  amused  himself.  The  magnate  had  been  a  butch 
er's  clerk,  and  was  now  an  irremediably,  coarse-fibred, 
fraudulent  man,  low  in  breeding  as  in  morals.  His 
child  Evelyn  was  one  to  whom  the  most  fastidious 
could — at  any  rate  upon  casual  acquaintance  —  have 
taken  no  exception.  It  was  not,  though,  Valerio  philos 
ophized,  democracy  and  republicanism  which  had  done 
all  this  that  he  saw  about  him.  It  was  sheer  plu 
tocracy.  In  times  gone  by  wealth  had  been  only  the 
incident,  the  corollary,  perhaps,  of  power.  His  own 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  133 

ancestors  had  been  rich  —  but  because  they  were  strong 
and  great.  Now  wealth  was  itself  the  power.  These 
people  about  him,  who  had  it,  reverenced  it,  filled  their 
souls  with  it.  So  for  that  matter  did  the  less  success 
ful  masses.  Had  it  not  been  said  of  the  people  of 
Hannibal's  day  and  city  that  they  tolerated  oligarchy 
only  because  each  hoped  to  attain  to  it  ?  That  was 
the  principle  at  work  here,  producing  a  travesty  of 
democracy. 

Even  in  the  company  of  the  coke  magnate's  daughter 
he  felt  his  own  aloofness,  his  want  of  community  in 
understanding  and  viewpoint.  He  was  not  in  a  con 
genial  atmosphere  until  he  was  able  to  be  with 
Beatrice.  She,  too,  was  indeed  the  daughter  of  a 
man  of  the  people,  and  newly  enriched,  yet  she  had  in 
herself  bridged  many  generations,  in  that  she  regarded 
this  world's  goods  as  a  means  and  not  an  end. 

As  he  took  her  away  from  the  group  with  which  she 
had  been  standing,  he  saw  the  smile  fade  from  her 
face.  But  it  had  been  a  smile  of  effort,  and  this,  he 
felt,  was  the  seriousness  of  contentment  and  relief.  A 
fine  perception  made  him  know  that  complete  silence 
upon  his  part  would  —  as  implying  an  intimacy  to 
which  she  had  not  yet  admitted  his  right  —  irk  her 
even  more  than  the  forced  speech  and  laughter  she  had 
been  obliged  to  with  the  others ;  so  he  talked  to  her 
quietly  and  easily.  It  was,  as  he  had  let  her  discover 
before  this,  his  faculty  to  be  able  to  speak  simply  of 


134  CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WOULD 

many  things  which  were  not  in  themselves  simple  or 
trivial.  He  did  so  now  as  they  sat  in  one  corner  of  the 
same  drawing-room  in  which  he  had  first  seen  her  as 
mistress  of  her  own  home.  Half  hidden  from  those 
who  passed  by  a  table  banked  with  pink  roses,  she 
rested  in  a  big  arm-chair  which  made  for  her  figure  a 
setting  of  buff  and  gold. 

The  quick  attempt  to  seem  not  to  have  seen  her 
upon  the  part  of  many  who  went  through  the  room 
made  her  understand  more  plainly  than  ever  that  her 
engagement  to  Valerio  was  taken  as  accomplished  or 
about  to  be  so. 

She  knew  that  she  was  allowing  herself  to  gradually 
drift  into  a  position  where  an  engagement  was  the  only 
possible  result,  and  it  was  coming  to  seem  to  her  that 
it  was  one  she  could  be  well  pleased  with.  When  she 
was  with  Valerio  she  was  always  contented  and  satis 
fied.  Now  she  was  hardly  aware  that  she  had  sat  for 
a  long  while,  reposefully  listening  and  sometimes 
answering  without  having  to  exert  herself.  When 
Durran  came  to  claim  her  she  was  sorry. 

"  It  is  more  than  half  an  hour  that  you  have  been 
there  with  Valerio,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 
"  As  you  are  not  given  to  making  yourself  conspicuous, 
I  am,  and  most  of  us  are,  coming  to  the  conclusion  that 
you  are  going  to  marry  him." 

She  knew  that  he  felt  himself  justified  by  the  inti 
mate  friendship  of  the  past  five  years  to  comment  upon 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD  135 

her  actions  and  to  express  himself  frankly.  He  had 
done  so  often  before,  and  she  had  not  taken  exception 
to  it.  Now,  however,  she  felt  a  covert  resentment. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "  if  the  cases  were  reversed, 
I  believe  it  would  not  so  much  as  occur  to  Prince 
Valerio  to  question  my  behavior,  even  indirectly." 

Durran  looked  at  her  leisurely.  "  That  is  not  like 
you,"  he  said  critically,  "  to  make  unpleasant  speeches. 
But  you  are  hypersensitive  because  you  are  conscious 
of  doing  something  unworthy  of  yourself.  If  you  are 
going  to  marry  Valerio,  it  is  not  because  you  love  him. 
If  you  are  not  going  to,  he  has  no  visible  reason  for 
knowing  it." 

He  waited  for  an  answer,  but  receiving  none  he  spoke 
again  himself.  "I  dare  say  you  are  trying  to  make 
yourself  think  that  I  am  impertinent,"  he  suggested. 

She  smiled  slowly,  moving  her  head  in  negative. 
"  Why  should  one,  after  all,  resent  from  a  friend  a 
truth  less  severe  than  one  tells  one's  self  ?  "  she  said. 
He  in  his  turn  made  no  reply. 

"  Must  we  dance  ?  "  he  asked  ;  "  or  may  we  go  to  the 
conservatory  instead  ?  " 

She  felt  a  disinclination  to  give  him  a  further  chance 
to  have  her  alone.  Yet  she  had  really  no  good  excuse 
for  refusing. 

The  conservatory  was  upon  the  third  and  topmost 
floor  of  the  house,  something  after  the  manner  of  a 
roof  garden.  But  Durran  was  not  to  have  it  only  for 


136  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

himself  and  Beatrice.  Others  were  before  them,  in 
numbers.  A  row  of  French  windows  opened  upon  a 
balcony,  however,  and  no  one  was  there,  the  women 
perhaps  fearing  the  fall  of  soot  for  their  light  gowns. 
Should  they  go  out  ?  he  asked  her,  holding  wide  a 
window.  She  passed  through,  and  he  followed  her  over 
to  the  railing  in  silence.  Then  he  spoke  again. 

"  Beatrice,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  want  to  annoy  you,  and 
I  have  no  right  to  any  confidence,  but  it  means  a  good 
deal  to  me  to  know  whether  or  not  you  intend  to  marry 
that  man.  Do  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  "  I  think  I  do." 

There  was  a  silence.  "Then  you  are  engaged  to 
him  ?  "  he  said,  in  another  tone,  a  forced  one  of  civil 
commonplace.  And  he  started  a  stereotyped  congratu 
lation. 

"  No,"  she  stopped  him,  "  you  are  mistaken.  I  am 
not  engaged  to  him." 

He  turned  to  her  quickly.  "  Then  think  it  over 
still  longer,  Beatrice,  before  you  finally  decide,"  he 
urged  earnestly.  "  Of  course  you  will  believe  that 
I  am  considering  myself.  I  am  —  naturally  —  to  an 
extent,  but  I  am  considering  you  primarily.  You  do 
not  love  him  and  you  do  not  love  me.  You  will  not 
take  me.  Why  should  you  take  him  ?  Unless  you 
are  selling  yourself  for  a  title  ?  What  has  he  to  offer 
that  I  have  not  —  excepting  always  the  title  ?  " 

She  smiled  as  she  stood  looking  off  into  the  night. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  137 

"I  have  wondered  myself,"  she  said.  "Those  things 
have  no  explanation,  have  they  ?  But  —  I  have  begun, 
of  late,  to  feel  that  endeavor  is  not  worth  while.  His 
coining  has  fitted  with  that  mood.  I  am  tired,  I  think, 
of  the  strenuous  American  atmosphere  —  and  he  has 
about  him  that  of  a  land  which  has  accomplished  its 
destiny  and  can  take  repose." 

He  did  not  seem  to  find  that  a  reason.  "  Your 
father  is  not  forcing  you  to  the  marriage,  is  he  ?  "  he 
asked.  "I  don't  think  you  could  be  coerced." 

"No,"  she  said.  "It  is  not  that,  though  father 
would  be  glad  of  —  the  alliance."  She  put  it  mockingly. 

"  Then  is  it  because  Valerio  loves  you  ?  I  give  him 
credit  for  loving  you  quite  apart  from  your  money. 
Are  you  going  to  marry  him  because  you  are  half 
sorry  for  him?  Two-thirds  of  the  marriages  in  the 
world  are  made  in  that  way  —  upon  the  one  side  or  the 
other.  But  that  kind  will  not  do  for  you,  particularly 
if  the  man  is  a  foreigner." 

"  You  do  not  seem  to  be  able  to  believe,"  Beatrice 
answered,  "that  I  can,  that  I  do,  care  for  him  more 
than  I  have  yet  for  any  one." 

"  More  than  you  could  care  for  any  one  ?  "  he  de 
manded. 

Beatrice  had  recourse  to  one  of  the  translated 
Gallicisms  she  sometimes  used.  He  heard  a  long 
breath  which  was  close  to  a  sigh.  "Ah! — that  —  " 
she  said. 


138  CAPTAINS  OF  THE   WOULD 

"  You  do  not  know  what  love  is,"  he  told  her. 

She  thought  suddenly  of  a  face  into  which,  all  un 
prepared,  she  had  chanced  to  look  up  a  few  days 
before,  of  a  voice  which  had  spoken  for  her  safety,  of 
a  hand  that  had  made  her  feel  the  strain  it  was  under 
not  to  tremble  as  it  took  hers.  "At  least  —  neither 
do  you,  John,"  she  said. 

"  Leave  me  out  of  it  then,  if  you  think  that,"  he  said, 
vexed.  "  But  for  your  own  sake,  Beatrice,  don't  marry 
until  you  do  love.  Or,  if  you  are  bound  to  —  then  let 
it  be  some  decent  American  and  not  a  Latin  who 
thinks,  like  all  his  breed,  that  woman  is  made  for  his 
amusement." 

"  If  the  Latin  thinks  she  is  made  for  his  amusement, 
the  American  seems  to  think  she  is  made  to  be  amused," 
she  said  with  a  placidity  which  did  not  hide  some 
intent.  "  I  have  never  been  able  to  decide  which  was 
the  lower  ideal." 

She  lifted  her  bare  and  rounded  arm  and  pointed 
through  the  darkness  in  the  direction  of  Staunton. 
"  What  can  that  be  ?  "  she  asked. 

Durran  watched  for  a  minute  with  growing  concern. 
"  It  is  a  fire,"  he  said.  There  was  no  plant  in  operation 
anywhere  in  that  vicinity,  as  both  of  them  knew.  It 
could  not  therefore  be  a  blast.  "It  may  not  be  the 
mills,"  Durran  added,  "  but  again  —  it  may.  I  will  go 
over  at  once.  Don't  say  anything  about  it  to  your 
father,  and  I  will  let  you  know  what  it  is  as  soon  as 
I  can." 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  139 

They  turned  back  into  the  house  and  Durran  went 
as  quickly  as  he  might  without  drawing  attention. 
Beatrice  followed  more  slowly  down  the  centre  of  the 
great  staircase  with  its  tall  lamps  and  its  banks  of 
plants  and  flowers.  The  long  train  of  her  gown 
dragged  heavily  back  behind  her,  the  light  showing 
in  the  gold  threads  woven  through  it  in  fleur-de-lis, 
and  on  the  topaz  jewels  about  her  neck  and  arms. 
The  halls  were  deserted,  and  she  was  quite  alone. 
The  sound  of  the  music  came  up  to  her. 


CHAPTER   XI 

When  discords  and  quarrels  and  factions  are  carried  on  openly 
and  audaciously,  it  is  a  sign  that  the  reverence  of  government  is 
lost.  —  BACON. 

A  WIND  had  sprung  up  with  the  beginning  of  the 
night,  a  dry,  gusty  wind  that  soughed  in  the  trees  with 
the  sound  of  a  bow  drawn  over  the  deadened  strings  of 
a  violin. 

There  was  a  hot,  yellow  quarter  moon  sinking  toward 
the  west.  A  row  of  tall  poplars  which  ran  beside 
the  road  swayed  and  rattled.  The  road  itself,  vague 
and  white,  led  out  into  the  country,  but  here,  where 
the  trees  were,  were  also  houses  set  back  in  yards  and 
scattered  among  empty  lots. 

A  shadowy  crowd  of  men  and  women  were  coming 
out  from  the  more  thickly  settled  part  of  Staunton. 
They  were  very  silent,  and  where  they  straggled  at  the 
edges,  children  ran  to  keep  up. 

At  a  certain  one  of  the  empty  lots  they  stopped,  and 
the  foremost  turned  in.  Two  men  carried  between 
them  something  that  had  the  look  of  a  covered  stretcher. 
They  laid  it  on  the  ground,  and,  taking  up  the  huddled 
thing  which  was  upon  it,  carried  it  to  where  a  tall  post 
could  be  seen  set  up  in  the  ground.  It  was  an  inert, 

140 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  141 

limp  figure  in  the  form  of  a  man.  The  two  lashed  it 
to  the  post  with  pieces  of  wire,  the  arms  and  legs  hang 
ing  loose.  There  was  a  pile  of  dry  brush  near  by.  It 
had  evidently  been  stacked  ready,  and  now  it  was  car 
ried  to  the  foot  of  the  stake  and  heaped,  —  the  women 
and  children  helping  with  the  rest,  still  moving  silently 
and  stealthily.  When  any  one  spoke,  the  voice  was 
dropped  and  low,  and  the  words  were  usually  in  a 
foreign  tongue,  or  in  English  foreign-phrased.  The 
dry  brush  crackled,  and  the  wind  whined  in  the  poplar 
tops.  But  there  was  no  noise.  A  match  was  struck, 
a  tiny  flame  which  lighted  a  large  hand  redly  and 
transparently  for  an  instant,  then  was  blown  out.  The 
next  match  was  held  behind  a  cap  and  was  touched  to 
a  torch,  —  a  stick  wrapped  in  oil-soaked  cotton  fleece. 
It  flared  up,  and  the  one  who  held  it  started  to  the 
brush  pile.  He  threw  it  among  the  dry  branches. 
They  caught  in  little  sparks  and  tongues,  at  first,  and 
then  the  fire  began  to  snap  and  roar.  The  light  showed 
the  figure  tied  to  the  post.  It  was  of  straw  and  rags 
roughly  stuffed  into  an  old  suit  of  clothes  and  sur 
mounted  by  that  badge  of  the  patrician  known  to  the 
proletariat  as  the  "plug  hat."  A  sheet  of  brown  paper 
was  nailed  above  it,  and  stencilled  in  big  letters  was 
Tennant's  name. 

The  crowd  was  still  quiet.  For  all  the  sound  that 
it  made  no  one  a  few  hundred  feet  from  its  outskirts 
could  have  known  that  it  was  there.  Even  when  the 


142  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

feet,  with  their  dangling  pair  of  worn-out  patent  leather 
shoes,  began  to  burn,  and  the  fire  crept  up  the  legs,  and 
an  odor  of  scorching  woollen  went  strongly  out  from  it, 
there  was  only  a  low  snarl.  It  shivered  evilly  through 
the  night.  The  sparks  were  beginning  to  fly  in  the 
wind,  and  the  crowd  pressed  back  from  the  roaring  pile. 
Gradually,  soundlessly,  as  the  wind  grew  stronger  and 
carried  the  flames  in  long  streamers  and  sparks  that 
whirled  by  and  away,  the  post  was  burning,  and  the 
figure  was  half  gone.  Before  the  head  had  caught, 
when  only  the  shoulders  and  the  arms  were  left,  the 
post  leaned  slowly  forward,  and  then  fell.  It  crushed 
down  into  the  pyre,  and  a  hiss  of  sparks  went  up.  The 
brightened  flames  lighted  the  figures  of  those  who  were 
in  the  front,  the  night  beyond  making  the  shadows 
black. 

There  was  a  rustle  of  finality,  and  the  movement  of 
dispersing  began.  Little  more  remained  to  be  seen 
save  the  burning  out  of  embers.  And  having  per 
formed  the  rite,  the  mock  sacrifice  which  their  lowering 
temper  had  demanded,  they  were  anxious  to  get  back 
to  the  town  and  scatter.  They  feared  being  recognized 
by  the  neighbors  whom  the  glare  had  now  attracted,  or 
being  caught  by  the  patrols  whom  they  had  already 
been  at  much  pains  to  elude,  —  worse  still,  by  some 
committee  member  who  would  make  trouble  for  them. 
To  not  one  did  it  occur  to  think  of,  as  a  possible 
informer,  the  big  Irishman  who  had  been  foremost 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  143 

among  them,  who  had  encouraged  the  idea  and  fur 
thered  its  carrying  out.  The  man  was  Clement,  and 
he  and  Laura  Halloran  were  among  the  last  to  leave 
the  vacant  lot.  Having  seen  the  crowd  depart,  they, 
instead  of  going  by  the  road,  started  in  the  opposite 
direction.  The  girl  slipped  her  hand  into  that  of  the 
man  who  was  the  object  of  her  unhappy  and  possessing 
love,  and  stumbled  along  over  the  uneven  ground.  As 
they  came  to  the  broken  fence  through  which  they  had 
to  pass  into  the  open  field  beyond,  allowing  of  a 
cross-cut  into  the  town,  Laura  turned  her  head  and 
looked  back  to  where  the  embers  were  still  glow 
ing  feebly.  She  stopped.  "  Look !  "  she  whispered. 
"  Look  !  "  Two  men  had  come  into  the  circle  of  the 
light  and  were  standing  there  peering  around.  "  It 
is  Manning,"  she  whispered  again,  "Manning  and  old 
Kemble."  And  as  if  they,  too,  had  been  recognized, 
Manning  called  Clement's  name  in  a  voice  of  command. 

"  Come,"  said  Clement,  and  went  through  the  break 
in  the  fence,  jerking  her  after  him,  bending  over  and 
hurrying  away  in  the  darkness. 

Looking  over  his  shoulder,  he  saw  that  Manning  was 
following  them,  and  at  a  run.  If  he  were  alone,  he 
would  have  a  good  chance  of  getting  away.  He  had 
the  start  and  the  advantage,  which  is  always  with  the 
pursued  over  the  pursuer.  But  if  he  were  hampered 
by  a  girl  dragging  on  to  his  hand,  he  would  be  over 
taken.  "  You  look  out  for  yourself,"  he  bade,  shaking 


144  CAPTAINS  OF   THE  WORLD 

his  hand  free  of  hers.  "  And  if  he  gets  you,  you  tell 
him  it  wasn't  me  you  was  with." 

"  Wait  for  me,  Clement,  wait  for  me,"  she  gasped, 
pleading  and  breathless.  But  he  was  already  well 
away,  and  paid  no  heed.  The  field  had  been  ploughed, 
and  her  feet  sank  in  the  soft  lumpy  earth  as  she  tried 
to  run  without  help.  She  knew  that  Manning  would 
be  upon  her  at  once. 

Then  she  heard  a  wailing  shriek  some  distance  be 
hind  her.  It  was  that  of  a  woman.  In  spite  of  all 
her  fright  and  haste  she  yet  glanced  back  again.  Man 
ning  was  not  coming  in  her  direction  at  all,  but  was 
hurrying  in  the  other,  toward  the  cottage  beyond  the 
empty  lot.  It  was  on  fire.  Flames  were  simmering 
along  the  roof,  and  the  woman's  voice  rose  again  and 
again  in  shrill  screams.  The  girl  followed  the  same 
impulse  which,  had  she  but  known  it,  was  followed  by 
the  crowd  down  the  road  as  it  too  saw  the  roof  on  fire, 
and  realized  that  the  sparks  from  the  brush  had  done 
the  thing.  She  went  on  faster  than  before.  The 
crowd  scattered  and  slunk  off  instantly,  without  a 
thought  of  going  back  to  lend  help.  Those  who  were 
in  it  were  already  frightened  enough,  for  Manning  and 
Kemble  had  pushed  straight  amongst  them,  and  must 
have  recognized  many. 

The  house  burned  as  well  as  had  the  pyre  of  brush 
wood.  It  was  rotten  and  old  and  full  of  cracks  for 
draughts.  The  fire  quivered  and  danced  in  yellow 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  145 

ripples,  which  the  hot  wind  worried  and  whipped, break 
ing  them  into  a  foam  of  sparks  that  poured  away  among 
the  tossing  poplar  trees  and  beyond,  melting  among  the 
thick-sown  stars. 

Those  who  had  burned  the  effigy  had  vanished,  but 
others  gathered  unaccountably  —  a  Cadmus'  harvest, 
apparently.  They  put  their  hands  to  trying  to  ex 
tinguish  the  fire,  and  Manning  and  Kemble  took  the 
lead.  But  there  was  little  chance  to  establish  or  main 
tain  discipline,  upon  the  moment's  notice,  and  there 
seemed,  moreover,  to  be  almost  nothing  with  which 
to  fight  the  flames,  only  a  couple  of  buckets  being 
produced.  The  old  woman  who  had  come  out  of  the 
cottage  was  of  no  use  in  offering  suggestions.  She 
continued  her  intermittent  wailing,  and  stood  about 
aimlessly. 

The  nearest  fire-alarm  box  was  a  half  mile  away  — 
the  Staunton  engine-house  three  times  as  far,  and  there 
was  no  hydrant  were  the  engine  to  come.  This  much 
Manning  learned,  but  he  sent  off  to  the  alarm-box  a  boy, 
whose  reluctance  to  leave  the  scene  of  excitement  caused 
him  to  make  exceeding  poor  speed. 

Presently  the  case  was  seen  to  be  hopeless,  the 
attempt  to  save  the  cottage  was  given  up,  and  Manning 
and  several  others  carried  out  so  much  of  the  furniture 
as  they  might. 

The  rest  stood  leaning  against  the  picket-fence,  watch 
ing.  Their  faces  showed  in  bright  light  and  black 


146  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

shadow,  changing  and  shifting.  As  for  the  old  woman, 
she  had  subsided,  and  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the 
roadway,  wrapped  in  a  white  counterpane,  surrounded 
by  questioners  and  sympathizers  whom  she  refused  to 
notice  or  answer.  Her  teeth  chattered  with  misery, 
and  she  whined  monotonously,  hugging  her  body  in  her 
arms. 

A  chemical  engine  came  at  last,  clanging  and 
rushing  up  the  road,  the  horses  blown  with  the  long 
run.  But  there  was  nothing  left  to  be  saved.  The 
flames  were  licking  up  almost  from  the  ground,  and  the}7 
threw  the  white  picket-fence  and  a  scorched  tree  in  the 
yard  into  wavering  relief.  The  ground  in  the  fields 
around  was  still  touched  with  glare,  but  the  light  in  the 
sky  was  fainter.  The  onlookers  began  to  drop  away, 
and  the  engines  went  also,  the  horses  trotting  slowly, 
pounding  their  big  hoofs.  The  fire  lay  close  among  the 
ashes,  and  only  a  stray  spark  swirled  up  now  and  then. 

Manning,  who  guessed  but  too  well,  however,  how  the 
fire  had  started,  made  inquiries.  He  asked  if  any  one 
had  seen  Clement  and  Laura  Halloran.  The  names 
were  unknown,  but  a  girl  recognized  the  descriptions 
he  gave,  and  answered.  For  no  reason  which  he  could 
count  sufficient  even  for  himself,  a  thought  had  come 
into  his  mind  as  he  had  caught  sight  of  the  two  at 
the  edge  of  the  lot.  He  believed  them  to  be  Clement 
and  the  Halloran  girl,  and  upon  the  instant  there  had 
flashed  upon  him  the  suspicion  that  those  two  were 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  147 

among  the  spies  whose  existence  the  town  had  been  sure 
of,  but  unable  to  discover.  Why  else  should  Clement, 
who  was  a  well-paid  workingman  and  who  usually 
fraternized  with  the  committee  members  —  why  else 
should  he  have  been  here  among  a  lot  of  foreigners,  and 
the  most  worthless  part  of  the  American  element  ? 

He  inquired  further  as  to  the  owner  of  the  house.  He 
was  told  that  she  was  a  widow,  a  Mrs.  Dome.  By  way 
of  further  identification,  they  added  that  she  was  the 
mother-in-law  of  the  laborer  Steinberg  who  had  been 
burned  to  death  in  the  open-hearth  mishap  a  month 
or  so  previously.  She  had  come  here  to  sleep  this  night, 
although  she  had  for  some  time  before  been  staying 
with  her  daughter.  The  two-room  cottage  had  been 
the  whole  of  her  property. 

Manning  looked  at  her  where  she  still  stood  across 
the  street.  The  hands  moved  aimlessly  and  pulled  at 
the  bedspread  in  which  she  was  wrapped,  and  she  moaned 
through  her  chattering  teeth,  as  her  blear  eyes  stared  at 
the  ashes  and  the  little  flickering  flames. 


'CHAPTER  XII 

Men  conquer  not  upon  such  easy  terms, 

Half  serpent,  in  the  struggle,  grow  these  worms. 

—  Modern  Love. 

THEKE  having  come  a  final  verification  of  the  rumor 
that  new  men  were  to  be  brought  into  Staunton,  the 
town  was  divided  into  three  factions,  —  those  who  wel 
comed  the  prospect  of  getting  back  to  work,  those  who 
were  for  resorting  to  force  to  prevent  -the  starting  up 
of  the  mills,  and  those  who  were  beginning  despon 
dently  to  feel  that,  if  the  temple  of  the  master's  were 
to  be  brought  down,  they  themselves,  like  the  blind 
though  mighty  Samson,  must  be  crushed  beneath  it. 

Manning's  trust  in  his  own  powers  to  lead  the  men 
had  weakened  in  the  last  few  days.  The  affair  of  the 
effigy  burning  upon  the  night  before  had  lessened  it 
still  further.  The  majority  of  those  at  whose  head  he 
had  been  placed  were  incapable  of  discipline,  trained  by 
the  very  nature  of  their  lives,  and  by  the  economic 
conditions  which  controlled  them,  to  look  little  farther 
than  the  immediate  present,  to  form  their  existence 
upon  that  system  which  considers  only  the  daily  bread, 
the  good  or  evil  of  the  hour  —  a  system  which  the 
whole  tenor  of  the  gospel  itself  contradicts,  which, 

148 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD  149 

taken  literally,  would  have  defeated  the  gospel's  ends 
and  all  the  long,  upward  striving  of  mankind. 

It  was  a  task  to  give  the  most  confident  pause  —  to 
deal  with  this  spirit  as  well  as  with  those  of  wrath, 
virulence,  jealousy,  and  craven  fear.  There  were,  to 
be  sure,  some  upon  whom  he  felt  able  to  count.  But 
Kemble,  he  had  begun  to  misdoubt,  was  not  amongst 
these.  The  bubble  of  his  courage  had  been  pricked 
by  sharp  mistrust  of  such  happenings  as  that  of  the 
previous  night.  And  he  had  a  large  following.  He 
was  in  a  way  the  Nestor  of  Staunton.  The  Achilles 
who  could  successfully  argue  against  him  had  need 
to  be  convincing.  Should  he  counsel  surrender  and 
abandoning  the  fight,  there  were  only  too  many  who 
would  go  with  him.  It  was  to  try  to  prevent  this  that 
Manning  was  now  going  to  his  house.  The  afternoon 
was  already  a  couple  of  hours  advanced;  but  as  both  he 
and  Kemble  had  spent  all  of  the  previous  night  track 
ing  and  bringing  to  arrest  the  ringleaders  in  the  crowd 
which  had  caused  the  destruction  of  Mrs.  Dome's  cot 
tage,  he  had  waited  until  the  older  man  should  have 
been  able  to  get  some  sleep.  He  himself  had  had  none 
and  did  not  feel  the  need  of  it.  He  had  been  occupied 
at  the  committee  headquarters  until  now,  and  he  was 
too  well  accustomed  to  doing  with  little  rest  to  suffer 
for  want  of  it  as  yet. 

He  was  somewhat  reluctant  to  go  to  Kemble's  house ; 
but  he  had  just  been  told  by  one  of  the  men  that  the 


150  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

heater  was  at  home,  and  it  was  necessary  to  see  him  be 
fore  an  important  and  perhaps  decisive  meeting  which 
was  to  be  held  that  night.  It  would  have  been  possible 
to  have  sent  for  him  to  come  to  the  headquarters  room, 
yet  without  some  good  reason  for  doing  so  it  might 
well  have  appeared  a  high-handed  proceeding  for  a 
man  of  three-and-twenty  toward  one  more  than  twice 
his  age.  And  there  could  be  no  certainty  of  privacy 
at  the  headquarters. 

As  had  happened  upon  the  last  time  he  had  come 
to  the  house,  Mrs.  Kemble  herself  opened  the  door. 
When  she  saw  him  her  hand  trembled  on  the  knob. 
He  asked  at  once  for  her  husband.  She  hesitated 
slightly.  Then  she  told  him  that  Kemble  was  in,  and 
sent  him  into  the  little  parlor  to  wait.  The  window- 
shades  were  as  usual,  so  far  down  as  to  leave  only  a 
half  light,  but  by  that  he  could  vaguely  discern  the 
large  figures  of  the  paper  upon  the  wall,  the  cheap  and 
gaudy  upholstery  of  the  chairs  and  lounge,  the  big 
black-and-gold  Japanese  screen  which  had  always  been 
his  detestation,  possibly,  as  much  as  anything,  because 
it  had  cost  more  than  Kemble  could  afford  for  a  merely 
useless  piece  of  furniture.  Mrs.  Kemble  was  extrava 
gant  in  a  determined,  calculated  way,  which  had  not 
even  the  picturesque  excuse  of  recklessness ;  and,  as  a 
consequence,  Kemble  had  never  the  money  to  gratify 
any  wishes  of  his  own.  There  was  also  in  a  glass-cov 
ered  and  carefully  locked  case  the  row  of  twenty-four 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  151 

encyclopaedias  which  were  possessed  by  all  the  work 
men  with  pretensions,  and  which  answered  in  a  fashion 
to  the  coat  of  arms  of  another  class  —  a  more  hopeful 
social  indication  on  the  whole  than  reliance  upon  the 
merits  of  "a  man  dead  these  five  hundred  years." 

Mrs.  Kemble  came  down  directly,  showing  traces 
of  hastily  given  touches  to  her  appearance,  and  send 
ing  forth  a  heavy  odor  of  some  musk  perfume. 

She  had  been  mistaken,  she  said  nervously.  Her 
husband  was  not  in,  after  all ;  but  the  girl  said  that 
he  had  left  word  that  he  would  return  within  five 
minutes.  Manning  was  not  aware  that  the  small 
maid  of  all  work  had  been  discharged. 

Yet  he  believed  Mrs.  Kemble  to  have  known  per 
fectly  well  all  the  while  that  her  husband  was  not  at 
home.  He  left  his  chair  and  stood  up.  "  Then  I 
will  come  back,  if  you  will  ask  him  to  wait  for  me," 
he  said.  But  she  was  standing  directly  in  his  way 
to  the  door,  and  showed  no  intention  of  letting  him 
pass.  There  rose  in  him  the  rebellion  of  the  male 
who  feels  that  he  is  being  thwarted,  coerced. 

"But  he  is  coming  back  at  once,"  she  repeated 
doggedly;  "  why  won't  you  wait  ?  If  it's  because  you 
are  afraid  of  me,"  and  she  laughed  shortly,  but  un 
easily,  too,  "I  will  go  .away." 

Manning  knew  that  he  turned  an  angry  red  and 
that  his  face  darkened.  Instantly  she  was  frightened 
at  having  annoyed  him,  and  changed  from  taunting 


152  CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD 

to  pleading,  and  yet  with  the  note  of  complacency 
of  one  who  believes  herself  to  be  loved  as  a  matter 
of  course ;  for  if  this  were  the  first  time  that  she 
herself  had  been  subjugated,  it  was  not,  by  a  number, 
the  first  time  she  had  had  others  under  the  influence 
of  her  impassive,  unresponsive  beauty. 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a  break  in 
the  low,  hard  voice.  "You  never  come  here  now. 
You  never  speak  to  me  if  you  can  help  it.  What 
have  I  done  ?  What  is  the  use  of  making  us  both 
miserable  —  Neil  ?  " 

He  saw  there  the  construction  she  had  all  along 
been  putting  on  his  attitude,  recognized  her  perfect 
egotism.  He  tried  to  tell  her,  as  he  had  done  before, 
that  he  had  been  too  much  occupied  to  go  anywhere. 
He  would  have  been  glad  to  put  his  hand  upon  her 
shoulders  and  set  her  roughly  aside.  She  seemed  to 
give  him  the  desire  to  use  physical  violence.  She 
had  always  the  effect  of  calling  up  everything  that 
was  rough  in  him,  which  much  in  his  surroundings 
had  been  calculated  to  develop,  and  which  it  had 
been  the  effort  of  his  youth  and  manhood  to  over 
come.  All  that  was  worst  in  his  nature  she  evoked. 
He  knew  that  she  was  a  woman  who  was  dangerous 
to  him,  who  —  if  once  she  should  succeed  in  getting 
a  hold  upon  him  —  would  ruin  him  in  every  way, 
would  stop  at  nothing  to  do  it.  His  intense  dis 
like  of  her  would  grow  to  hatred  soon  enough,  and 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  153 

carry  them  both  to  any  length,  to  any  degree  of 
degradation.  As  she  stood  there  before  him,  indis 
tinct  in  outline,  except  for  the  white  face  and  the 
dull  red  bands  of  hair,  he  felt  that  he  hated  her 
already,  for  already  she  was  exerting  an  influence 
upon  him. 

"I  could  help  you,  if  you  would  let  me,"  she  was 
begging,  her  voice  more  insidious  than  he  had 
known  it  could  be.  "I  could  tell  you  things  about 
Aim,"  the  pronoun  by  which  she  designated  the  hus 
band  a  score  of  years  her  senior,  was  one  of  detesta 
tion  and  contempt.  "  I  could  tell  you  that  he  wants 
to  go  back  to  work.  He  says  that  circumstances 
are  too  strong  for  us.  He  says  that  the  fancy  prices 
they  are  going  to  give  for  skilled  men  to  train  the 
scabs  will  bring  plenty  —  and  that  then  you  will  all 
be  out  of  your  jobs  for  good." 

He  was  still  standing  rigidly  where  he  was,  forcing 
himself  to  resist  the  influence  she  was  using  all  the 
evil  knowledge  she  had  acquired  to  exert  upon  him. 
He  showed  no  sign  of  giving  up  his  intention  to  go 
as  soon  as  he  should  be  able  to  pass. 

She  moved  a  little  nearer.  "  But  you.  can't  do  any 
thing  with  him,"  she  said  softly,  "not  even  you.  If 
you  will  let  me,  if  you  will  just  say  you  want  me  to, 
Neil,  I  will  help  you.  He  will  do  anything  for  me." 
The  scent  of  the  heavy  perfume,  sickening  sweet,  was 
oppressive  in  the  close  dusk  of  the  room.  He  was 


154  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

looking  straight  and  steadily  into  the  uneasy  eyes, 
which,  like  the  needle  in  the  shaken  compass,  vacillated 
but  came  back  irresistibly  to  the  magnet  point.  He 
saw  that  she  turned  to  a  livid  and  mottled  pallor  which 
made  her  face  stare  even  more  strangely  from  the 
gloom.  Before  he  could  realize  it  her  hand  went  out 
and  shut  upon  his  arm  with  a  force  he  would  not  have 
believed  possible,  even  in  her  fine,  large-modelled  arms. 
She  had  brought  herself  close  to  him.  "  I  will  do  any 
thing  —  "  it  was  almost  too  thick  and  inarticulate  to  be 
heard  —  "  anything  for  you" 

And  as  if  her  own  words  had  broken  the  last  restraint, 
she  gave  a  choking  cry,  caught  at  his  hand  with  both 
of  her  coarse,  blunt-fingered  ones,  and  dropping  down 
into  the  chair  he  had  left,  she  pressed  her  cheek  and 
lips  against  his  palm.  He  could  feel  her  breath  hot 
upon  the  inner  side  of  his  wrist.  The  sense  of  her 
mere  beauty,  of  her  crass  personality,  was  a  bursting 
flame  before  his  eyes,  blinding  him,  making  his  will 
stagger  back  stunned  and  useless.  Then  the  fighting 
impulse  for  safety  came. 

He  did  not  hear  the  front  door  shut  behind  him  nor 
his  own  feet  crossing  the  boards  of  the  porch.  The 
sharp  click  of  the  gate  latch  was  indistinct.  He  still 
saw  in  front  of  him  the  figure  in  the  chair,  relaxed  at 
the  withdrawal  of  his  touch,  inert,  defeated,  her  face 
dropped  upon  her  own  out-thrown  arm,  in  utter  aban- 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  155 

donment,  the  fallen  head  with  its  mass  of  rust-red  hair 
on  which  the  gray  light  from  beneath  the  lowered  shades 
fell  full. 

Gradually  he  realized  that  he  must  have  left  her 
there  without  compassion,  and  have  gone  from  the 
house.  He  had  turned  back  upon  itself  not  only  a 
dangerous  passion,  but  a  dangerous  vanity  as  well.  It 
remained  to  be  shown  what  she  would  make  for  him  the 
consequences.  But  though  he  counted  upon  her  vanity, 
it  was,  had  he  but  known  it,  upon  a  less  one  than  was 
really  hers,  and  in  which,  for  the  present,  his  safety 
from  the  revenge  of  a  scorned  woman  lay. 

There  is  only  one  man  who  is  loved  more  recklessly, 
more  entirely,  than  he  who  returns  the  love  and  suc 
cumbs.  It  is  he  who  returns  it  and  resists. 

And  Mrs.  Kemble,  as  she  lay  with  her  head  bowed 
upon  her  arm,  alone  in  the  darkened  room,  and  heard 
the  clicking  latch  of  the  gate,  believed  that  this  one 
who  had  thrown  off  her  hold  and  left  her,  had  been  able 
to  resist. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  manera  que,  subiendo  los  peldanos  de  sus  ambiciosos  suenos, 
que  de  abajo  solo  le  ofrecen  esplendores,  descubre  de  pronto  tristes 
perspectivas. 

So  that,  climbing  the  heights  of  one's  ambitious  dreams,  which 
from  below  showed  only  splendors,  one  soon  discovers  dreary 
outlooks. 

IT  was  a  dark  night  yet,  the  darkness  just  before 
dawn,  when  the  world's  black  silence  is  moving  with 
only  the  wretched,  and  the  evil,  and  those  in  pain,  when 
the  toiler  wakes  to  go  on  with  the  rolling  of  his  Ixion 
wheel,  and  the  broken-hearted  to  stare  back  into  the 
hollow  shadow. 

But  in  Manning's  room  there  was  a  very  glare  of 
light.  The  round  flame  of  his  lamp  was  at  the  highest 
notch,  throbbing  with  its  own  heat.  Manning  sat  by 
the  desk,  all  piled  with  papers  and  heavy  books.  He 
was  bent  forward,  with  one  arm  thrown  over  his  crossed 
knees,  the  other  out  upon  the  table.  Every  sinew  of 
his  body  was  strained  in  unrest.  His  hands  were  shut 
tightly  and  his  jaws  thrust  forward  by  the  clenching  of 
his  teeth.  His  brows  met  in  a  straight  black  line.  He 
had  sat  there  since  he  had  come  in  from  the  stormy 

156 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  157 

committee  meeting,  well  after  one  o'clock.  He  was 
too  disturbed  and  angry  for  sleep.  It  was  so  long  now, 
indeed,  since  he  had  slept,  that  it  seemed  to  him  he 
could  never  do  so  again,  so  intensely  awake  he  was. 
His  brain  was  unnaturally  clear,  his  head  curiously 
light,  all  his  senses  keen,  and  his  body  so  numb  that  he 
had  almost  ceased  to  feel  it. 

All  his  life  he  had  been  accustomed  to  doing  with 
little  sleep.  He  had  purposely  trained  himself  to  it 
that  he  might  have  the  time  for  reading,  study,  and  the 
open  air,  which  the  twelve  hours  of  toil  would  else 
have  made  impossible.  But  it  was  now  the  second 
night  since  he  had  closed  his  eyes.  Affairs  in  Staunton 
were  reaching  their  crisis,  and  every  hour  had  its  mat 
ters  that  needed  his  attention.  He  had  given  it ;  but 
now  that  immediate  work  was  not  necessary,  he  was 
beginning  to  feel  that  the  nerves  of  his  head  burned, 
and  there  was  a  high  ringing  in  his  ears.  Sometimes 
he  moved  slightly,  changing  his  position.  Then  he 
was  still  again.  He  had  been  over,  more  than  once, 
the  happenings  of  the  afternoon  and  evening,  the  out 
look  for  the  immediate  future  and  the  more  remote. 

From  the  short  but  emotion-charged  scene  at  the 
end  of  which  he  had  left  Mrs.  Kemble  crouching  in 
the  chair  with  her  head  dropped  on  her  arm,  he  had 
gone  to  find  her  husband.  He  had  found  him  and  had 
put  his  arguments.  It  had  been  like  raining  blows 
upon  a  pillow.  To  give  one  in  one  place  merely 


158  CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD 

brought  it  out  in  some  other,  and  no  impression  was 
permanent. 

Kernble  was  willing  to  admit  that  union  was  a  good 
thing,  even  an  obligation.  Nevertheless,  it  was  of 
no  use  to  attempt  it  here  at  Staunton.  The  company 
was  too  determined,  too  powerful.  The  public  in 
general  was  too  adverse.  The  time  was  not  ripe.  The 
country  was  not  yet  educated  up  to  what  unions  might 
be  made  under  the  right  sort  of  leaders.  How  the 
education  was  to  come  about,  how  they  were  to  be 
made  anything  without  the  usual  troublous  formative 
period  of  all  social  growth,  he  could  not  say.  "  I  sup 
pose,"  he  had  suggested,  "  that  you  think  I'm  one  of 
them  that  believes  nobody  oughtn't  to  declare  for  a 
cause  till  it's  got  to  be  strong  and  triumphant  ?  But 
we'd  better  wait.  The  time  ain't  come  yet.  Circum 
stances  —  "  he  repeated  what  he  had  said  to  his  wife  — 
"  circumstances  is  too  strong  for  us."  Manning,  he 
averred,  was  young  and  full  of  faith.  "  But  I've  got 
past  all  that.  It  ain't  worth  while.  The  fight's  too 
hard." 

And  besides,  after  all,  now  that  he  looked  back 
upon  it,  the  company  had  treated  them  pretty  well. 
It  looked  after  its  injured.  It  had  lent  him  money  to 
build  his  house.  It  had  done  so  with  a  great  many 
of  the  men,  and  rarely  foreclosed  a  mortgage.  Tennant 
gave  a  good  deal  personally  to  charities.  And  quite 
apart  from  charities,  the  wages  had  always  been  fair. 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WOULD  159 

To  be  sure,  the  twelve-hour  shifts  were  a  hardship. 
But  then  the  tonnage  men,  being  paid  by  the  quantity, 
benefited  just  so  much.  "  Perhaps  we  don't  get  time 
to  live.  Perhaps  we  ain't  so  much  account  as  the 
machinery  that  has  got  to  be  kept  in  good  shape.  But 
the  ones  of  us  that  has  children  — "  there  was  an 
undertone  of  regret  that  his  wife  had  not  given  him 
these  —  "they  can  educate  them  pretty  well." 

"  To  grow  up  in  their  turn  to  a  twelve-hour  day  ?  " 
had  put  in  Manning.  "  Then  why  educate  them  ? 
Perhaps  you  think  the  employers  will  offer  shorter 
hours  themselves  ?  But  they  won't.  As  far  as  most 
of  them  are  concerned,  we  could  go  back  to  the  fifteen- 
hour  workday  of  the  first  part  of  the  century  before 
there  were  unions  that  dared  to  protest.  Employers, 
like  Gengembre  in  France,  who  do  the  fighting  for 
legal  shorter  hours  themselves,  don't  happen  often. 
From  the  beginning  every  cut  down  in  working  time 
has  met  with  the  bitterest  and  angriest  opposition  — 
with  violent  protests  that  business  would  be  ruined." 

And  it  had  been  without  avail  to  argue  that  it  was 
the  unions  that  had  been  in  the  front  rank  through  a 
long  day  of  struggle,  which  were  to  thank  for  the  rate 
of  wages  that  moral  pressure  obliged  such  as  Tennant 
to  pay. 

Kemble  was  not  so  sure.  He  advanced  a  theory 
that  the  company  might  spontaneously  have  made  the 
wages  good  and  sufficient.  Speculation  being  impos- 


160  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

sible  to  refute,  and  the  general  contrary  indication  of 
industrial  history  being  without  effect  to  convince 
Kemble,  Manning  had  abandoned  the  effort,  coming 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  declared  and  determined 
non-union  man  was  to  be  preferred  to  the  weak-pur 
posed  individual  of  Kemble's  stamp. 

Not  two  hours  thereafter  Kemble  had  come  to  the 
meeting,  looking  troubled  and  harassed,  and  had  de 
clared  his  intention  of  standing  by  the  committee. 
Manning  had  understood  at  once  that  Mrs.  Kemble 
must  have  accomplished  that  which  all  his  own  per 
suasion  had  failed  to.  He  wondered  why  she  had 
done  it,  and  was  not  comfortable  in  his  own  mind  as 
regarded  her  underlying  purpose.  But  he  had  gained 
the  thing  he  most  wanted,  whatever  the  cause.  Yet 
Kemble's  declaration  of  his  intentions  had  not  had 
the  steadying  effect  upon  the  committee  which  Man 
ning  had  expected.  It  had  suddenly  proved  to  be 
Lockhart's  followers  who  were  in  the  ascendant.  The 
papers  had  that  morning  quoted  Tennant  to  the  effect 
that  "  hunger  should  bring  capitulation,"  that  organ 
ized  labor  was  a  revolutionary,  murderous  mob  of 
brutal  and  ignorant  men,  who  wished  to  run  an  em 
ployer's  private  business  for  him,  and  that  the  company 
would  crush  unionism  at  whatever  cost. 

The  Staunton  men  resented  it  —  even  many  who 
were  of  non-union  persuasion,  but  felt  the  attack  upon 
representative  members  of  their  own  class,  uttered  in 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  161 

exactly  the  same  vindictive  spirit  of  exasperation  as 
that  which  actuates  the  throwing  of  cobblestones  and 
brickbats.  For  the  temper  of  the  age  it  savored  too 
much  the  answer  of  Pharaoh,  the  master,  to  Moses  and 
Aaron.  And  it  brought  forth  in  some  quarters  the 
retort  that  if  the  company  tried  to  start  up  the  mills 
with  non-union  men,  the  mills  would  be  wrecked. 

That  was  now  the  popular  sentiment  even  among  the 
majority  of  the  committee.  The  man  who  should  ad 
vocate  it  would  be  the  popular  leader.  He  who  should 
stand  against  it  would  be  overridden.  And  Manning 
knew  it  —  had  seen  it  to-night.  It  was  that  which  he 
had  been  considering  as  he  sat  alone  in  his  room. 
He  had  had  his  temptation  —  had  looked  it  full  in  the 
face.  He  did  not  wish  to  be  deposed  almost  at  the 
outset  —  to  submit  to  the  humiliation  of  being  beaten 
by  Lockhart.  He  did  not  care  to  be  considered  as  a 
man  who  had  lost  his  grip  on  the  first  situation  he  had 
ever  tried  to  handle.  If  he  were  now  to  go  back  on  his 
convictions  and  advise  fight — even  only  tacitly  con 
sent  to  it  —  he  could  easily  keep  the  command.  In  the 
long  run  it  would,  he  saw  plainly,  be  neither  to  his 
own  interests  nor  to  that  of  the  cause.  But  any  way  he 
might  act,  the  future  seemed  to  hold  nothing  for  him  in 
this  line.  He  was  worsted  before  he  had  fairly  begun. 

Yet  —  he  drew  a  long,  hard  breath  at  last,  and  his 
muscles  relaxed  —  if  it  depended  upon  his  permitting 
violence,  then  Lockhart  would  have  to  win. 


162  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

He  stood  up,  went  over  to  the  window,  and  lifted  a 
corner  of  the  shade.  It  was  night  still,  and  there  was 
not  the  echo  of  a  sound.  He  returned  to  his  chair  by 
the  desk,  but  almost  at  once  a  pebble  rattled  against  his 
window-pane. 

He  turned  the  lamp  very  low.  There  was  always 
the  chance  that  an  attempt  would  be  made  upon  his 
life  by  some  fanatic  who  believed  him  —  as  some  al 
ready  did  —  to  be  in  Tennant's  pay  to  preserve  peace. 

He  was  not  minded  to  make  himself  more  of  a  mark 
for  a  bullet  than  was  necessary,  and  he  would  have 
been  a  good  one  with  the  light  and  the  white  wall  back 
of  him.  He  went  to  the  window  again.  His  sight  had 
not  accustomed  itself  to  the  change  from  glare  to  dark 
ness,  and  he  could  distinguish  nothing  down  in  the 
street,  but  it  seemed  to  him  that  his  name  was  spoken 
from  out  the  void.  He  answered  with  a  brief  and  ten 
tative  "  Yes  ?  " 

Something  more  was  said.  He  could  not  hear  it. 
He  considered  what  he  should  do.  If  whoever  was 
below  wished  to  see  him,  it  might  perhaps  be  upon 
some  matter  urgently  important,  in  order  to  give  him 
information  which  he  might  need.  He  leaned  from  the 
window  and  spoke  distinctly.  "  Wait  for  me,"  he  said. 
He  pulled  down  the  curtain,  went  back  to  the  desk, 
and  raised  the  lamp-flame.  Then  he  opened  the  drawer, 
took  out  a  revolver,  the  nickel  of  which  glinted  in  the 
bright  light,  and  leaving  the  room  went  down  the 
creaking  stairs  to  open  the  front  door. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  163 

The  man  came  in.  A  gas-jet  was  turned  low  and  let 
Manning  see  him  and  recognize  him  as  a  Greek  who 
had  formerly  been  a  laborer  in  his  own  department. 
Still  considering  the  possibility  of  attack,  he  sent 
him  ahead  up  the  stairway.  When  they  reached  the 
room  the  Greek  stood  blinking  and  dazzled.  He  ap 
peared  the  very  genius  of  want  —  an  Erisichthon  of 
whose  bowels  Famine  had  taken  possession.  He  might 
well  have  been  painful  to  look  at,  but  Manning  looked 
at  him  with  sufficient  composure,  and  speculated  as  to 
what  it  could  be  that  he  wanted.  He  was  not  espe 
cially  sorry  for  him.  He  knew  him  to  be  in  receipt  of 
benefits  from  the  union,  and  remembered,  moreover, 
that  he  was  given  to  drinking.  He  motioned  to  a 
chair.  The  man  walked  to  it  with  the  careful  preci 
sion  in  placing  his  feet  of  some  one  under  the  influence 
of  liquor.  Yet  Manning  believed  that  he  was  sober,  and 
guessed  it  to  be  the  light-headedness  of  hunger.  The 
Greek,  having  taken  the  chair,  spoke  at  once. 

"  I  think  I  will  go  back  to  work,"  he  said.  Foreign 
birth  was  betrayed  in  only  the  most  intangible  and 
elusive  of  accents. 

Manning  nodded.  It  was  not  merely  to  tell  him  this 
that  the  man  was  sneaking  about  in  the  black  hours. 

"I  think  I  will  go  back  when  the  blacklegs  they 
come." 

Manning  nodded  again.  He  knew  to  the  full  the 
purposes  which  silence  could  be  made  to  serve. 


164  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD 

"  If  I  go  now  —  then  I  can  get  work.  By  and  by  I 
cannot.  It  is  better  I  go  now.  My  family  is  twelve." 
He  grinned  unhappily. 

Manning  studied  him  with  a  detached  interest  he 
could  not  make  sympathetic.  Twelve  of  them  ! 
Twelve  of  this  breed  spawned  upon  a  country  which 
was  struggling  to  maintain  Anglo-Saxon  ideals,  which 
was  making  the  world's  great  attempt  at  a  form  of 
government  demanding  the  highest  and  most  advanced 
class  of  citizenship.  It  was  an  argument  for  Malthus, 
certainly. 

The  man  had  on  a  coat  which  had  been  black  but 
was  now  almost  yellow.  Beneath  it  was  a  threadbare 
undershirt  full  of  holes.  Manning  waited  yet.  The 
Greek  began  to  chew  the  long  ends  of  his  mustache. 

"  Do  you  hear  what  happen  in  the  strike  in  the 
Chicago  stove  factory  ?  "  he  asked  ingratiatingly. 

"  No,"  said  Manning. 

"  No  ?  Well,  I  work  there.  I  know.  Well  —  there 
was  some  dynamite  sticks  in  the  moulds  where  some 
scabs  they  worked.  The  shop  it  was  blowed  up." 

"  And  you  helped  put  the  sticks  there  ?  "  said  Man 
ning,  not  as  an  accusation  but  as  a  matter  of  fact. 

"  No,"  answered  the  man,  "  no  ;  I  think  it  was  the 
Pinkertons  done  it." 

Manning  had  very  slight  faith  in  the  theory  that 
detectives  made  a  practice  of  such  methods  in  order  to 
throw  unjust  suspicion  and  odium  upon  the  strikers. 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  165 

"I  see,"  he  said,  but  gave  no  sign  that  he  also  saw 
what  was  coming.  His  fingers  drummed  upon  the 
table,  and  he  kept  his  eyes  on  the  man. 

"  Yes,"  ventured  the  latter,  seeking  a  lead  and  en 
couragement. 

"  Yes,"  reiterated  Manning,  then  suddenly  deciding 
to  play  openly.  "  Well,  some  sticks  of  dynamite  won't 
blow  up  these  shops.  They  are  too  big  and  there  are 
too  many  of  them." 

The  Greek  smiled  again.  "  Some  gas  that  would  be 
turned  on  in  the  open-hearth  furnace  would  make  some 
trouble,  maybe,  to  begin,"  he  suggested. 

"  It  would  —  for  you,"  assented  Manning,  tranquilly. 
"  Because  if  there  is  any  gas  turned  on  in  the  furnaces, 
or  any  dynamite  exploded,  I  will  feel  called  upon  to 
mention  the  matter  to  the  police  at  once.  Besides,  you 
might  get  blown  up  yourself.  And  even  if  you  didn't, 
you  would  certainly  get  into  jail." 

The  man  sprang  at  him  with  the  quick  agility  of 
the  feline,  and  a  drawn  knife  was  in  his  hands,  by  a 
movement  so  swift  as  to  have  been  invisible.  Man 
ning's  arm  went  out  and  pushed  him  half  across  the 
room,  but  the  knife  grazed  his  finger  and  cut  it  slightly. 

"Sit  down,"  he  commanded  without  further  disturb 
ing  himself.  "  Don't  play  any  of  that.  I  could  snap 
your  back  without  trying  to."  He  had  put  the  revolver 
on  the  desk  when  the  man  had  not  seen  him,  and  had 
pushed  some  papers  over  it.  He  did  not  think  it  worth 


166  CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD 

while  to  show  it  now.  "You  are  half  starved,  and 
whiskey  has  played  the  devil  with  your  nerves,"  he 
said.  He  had  taken  out  his  handkerchief  and  was 
wrapping  it  around  the  bleeding  finger. 

The  man  still  threatened.     "  You  tell  the  police  —  " 

"  I  won't,"  answered  Manning ;  "  not  unless  some 
thing  that  I  think  you  are  behind  happens  at  the  mills. 
Then  I  will." 

The  man  went  unwillingly  back  to  the  chair,  sitting 
upon  the  edge  of  it. 

"  And  now,"  —  Manning  took  another  tone,  —  "  if 
you  have  nothing  further  to  see  me  about  —  " 

The  Greek  examined  the  tip  of  a  boot  from  which 
five  grimy  toes  were  showing.  "I  think  you  would 
want  me  to  help  you,"  he  said  sulkily. 

"I  know  you  did,"  answered  Manning,  choosing 
his  words,  for  though  he  was  not  greatly  inclined  to 
think  so,  it  was  altogether  within  the  possibilities 
that  the  man  might  be  a  spy  of  the  company,  sent  to 
get  evidence  against  him.  "I  know  you  did.  But  you 
made  a  mistake.  I  am  looking  after  the  interests  of 
a  few  thousand  respectable  men,  not  bossing  a  gang 
of  criminals.  So  I  don't  need  your  services.  Is  that 
all  you  wanted  to  see  me  about  ?  "  he  repeated. 

The  man  got  up  to  his  feet.  "  I  guess  so,"  he  said. 
He  glanced  sidewise  sharply.  "  You  won't  tell  the 
police  ?  "  he  demanded  again. 

"  No,"  said  Manning. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  167 

"  You  will  not  tell  that  I  come  here  ?  "  The  little, 
mean  eyes  watched  him  eagerly. 

"  So  that  if  you  should  happen  to  want  to  finish  me 
up  some  dark  night,  no  one  would  be  able  to  connect 
it  with  you  ?  "  was  Manning's  spoken  interpretation  of 
the  meaning  behind  the  question.  "  On  the  contrary, 
I  will  tell  two  or  three  people  that  you  have  been 
here." 

The  man  looked  savage.  "  What  for  will  you  say  I 
come  ?  "  he  insisted. 

Manning's  patience  was  giving  out.  "  Now  look  here," 
he  said ;  "  I  will  do  nothing  to  hurt  you  unless  I  think 
you  have  done  something  to  hurt  some  one  else.  And 
I  will  not  promise  more  than  that." 

The  man  showed  one  eye-tooth  in  an  unpleasant 
laugh.  Then  he  got  to  the  door  and  opened  it. 
"  Good-by,"  he  said  over  his  shoulder  and  in  a  whisper. 

"  Good-by,"  answered  Manning.  The  steps  creaked 
for  a  minute  or  two.  The  front  door  was  opened  and 
shut. 

Manning  put  out  the  lamps.  Then  he  crossed  to  the 
windows  and  pulled  up  the  curtains. 

It  was  gray  daybreak. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

Thou  shalt  abstain,  renounce,  refrain. 
Such  is  the  everlasting  song 

That  in  the  ears  of  all  men  rings, 
That  unrelieved,  our  whole  life  long, 

Each  hour,  in  passing,  hoarsely  brings. 

—  GOETHE. 

ON  the  evening  of  the  ball,  Durran,  having  gone  to 
Staunton  and  learned  that  the  fire  was  merely  an  out 
lying  cottage  which  had  in  some  manner  caught,  had 
returned  to  the  Tennants'  house.  He  had  returned  also, 
apparently,  to  a  more  impersonal  frame  of  mind  with 
regard  to  Beatrice  and  Valeric,  and  had  tacitly  asked 
pardon  for  his  interference. 

As  a  consequence,  two  mornings  later,  when  Beatrice 
wished  to  go  over  to  Staunton,  she  sent  him  a  note  ask 
ing  his  services  as  escort  should  he  himself  be  going 
across  the  river,  as  she  supposed  it  probable.  When  he 
had  responded  by  reporting  in  person,  and  she  found 
him  waiting  for  her  in  the  library,  she  explained. 
Lester  would,  as  she  happened  to  know,  very  especially 
wish  to  have  her  help  that  day.  Mrs.  Steinberg  and 
the  baby  had  to  be  provided  for  in  some  new  way,  since 
the  former  did  not  recover,  and  the  latter  was  not  doing 

168 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WOELD  169 

so  well  as  at  first.  Moreover,  the  loss  of  the  cottage 
had  so  nearly  unhinged  old  Mrs.  Dome's  mind  as  to 
render  her  useless  to  take  care  of  any  one.  Besides 
which  one  matter,  there  were  others  equally  pressing. 
But  her  father,  Beatrice  went  on,  not  liking  the  present 
temper  of  the  workmen,  had  that  morning  said  that  she 
was  not  to  go  into  Staunton  unless  she  were  accom 
panied  by  some  one  able  to  take  care  of  her  if  need 
should  arise.  "If  you  will  leave  me  at  the  parish 
house,"  she  finished,  drawing  on  her  gloves,  "  Mr. 
Lester  will  bring  me  back  as  far  as  this  side  of  the 
river,  I  dare  say." 

Durran  consented  with  a  willingness  through  which 
he  did  not  allow  it  to  appear  that  he  was  not  entirely 
satisfied  with  the  footing  of  a  friend  who  was  to  be  used 
at  my  lady's  good  pleasure  and  thanked  with  nothing 
warmer  than  liking  and  confidence. 

"  We  will  not  drive,  though  ?  "  he  suggested.  "It  is 
wiser  not,"  he  assented,  when  she  had  told  him  that  she 
never  did  so.  "  I  saw  the  association  paper  yesterday, 
wherein  some  illiterate  and  unbalanced  contributor 
raved  of  France  and  1792,  and  of  the  children  of  the 
poor  ground  to  death  nowadays  under  the  carriage 
wheels  of  the  rich.  A  carriage  might  be  unpopular." 

On  the  ride  to  Staunton,  he  spoke  of  the  conditions 
there.  They  did  not  please  him.  "We  are  losing 
more  than  fifty  thousand  dollars  a  day,"  he  said,  "  and 
when  the  unskilled  men  get  to  scorching  heats  and 


170  CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD 

spilling  and  spoiling,  we  won't  be  much  better  off  for 
some  time.  Besides  which,  there  is  going  to  be  trouble 
when  we  start  up,  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt.  The 
sheriff  went  over  there  yesterday,  at  our  instigation,  to 
warn  the  men  to  keep  the  peace.  They  told  him  point- 
blank  that  the  mills  were  not  going  to  be  run  non-union 
if  they  could  prevent  it.  He  is  a  timid  soul  and  he  got 

uncomfortable  and  came  back  forthwith.     Afterwards, 

i 
though,  Manning  —  who  wasn't  around  at  the  time  — 

heard  of  it,  and  sent  him  word  that  the  committee 
would  make  every  effort  for  law  and  order." 

"'It  is  not  a  revolt,  sire  —  it  is  a  revolution,' "  quoted 
Beatrice. 

"  Something  like  it,"  agreed  Durran.  "  And  we  are 
meeting  it,  as  a  nation,  about  as  intelligently  as  did 
the  monarch  and  nobles  who  treated  that  warning  with 
bad-tempered  disdain."  He  had  in  his  pocket  at  that 
moment  an  anonymous  notice  that  Alan  Tennant's  life 
would  be  attempted  and  the  attempt  would  not  be  aban 
doned  until  it  should  succeed.  He  had  showed  it  to 
Tennant  himself  —  who  had  paid  no  attention  to  the 
threat.  His  worst  enemy  could  never  have  charged  him 
with  cowardice.  "  This  '  The  State  is  Myself '  attitude," 
he  came  out  presently,  "  won't  do.  It  can't  be  made  to 
work,  whether  by  the  capital  side  or  the  labor  one. 
There  ought  to  be  some  method  of  conciliation  that  would 
do  away  with  it  and  strike  a  happy  medium.  I  believe 
there  are  ways,  even  now,  of  managing  without  this 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WOULD  171 

everlasting  tug  and  friction — at  any  rate  in  dealing 
with  the  better  class  of  workmen.  And  it  lies  with  us 
to  make  the  advances,  too,  for  the  reason  that  we  have 
the  best  of  things." 

He  stopped  and  was  looking  out  of  the  window. 
They  were  on  the  city  side,  just  running  upon  the 
bridge  which  crossed  the  river  to  Staunton.  A  man 
was  limping  along  the  footpath  with  a  twisting  motion 
which  threw  him  sidewise  at  every  step  and  seemed 
'  painfully  wearisome.  He  was  a  big,  raw-boned  Irish 
man  with  a  good-humored,  patient  face,  all  drawn  and 
woebegone  now.  His  troubled  blue  eyes  met  Dur- 
ran's  without  seeming  to  see  him. 

"  The  best  of  things !  "  repeated  Durran,  "  Haven't 
we  though  !  Look  at  that.  This  "  — he  glanced  himself 
over  —  "  is  what  it  means  to  me  to  have  the  plant  shut 
for  a  few  weeks.  That  is  what  it  means  to  him.  It 
is  appalling  the  odds  against  them  in  the  fight,  when 
ever  they  make  it.  He  is  going  to  the  city,  I  suppose, 
to  hunt  a  job  —  like  hundreds  of  the  other  poor  devils 
• —  and  walking  it  with  that  lame  leg  !  " 

"  It  is  Farraday,"  said  Beatrice.  She  told  him  his 
story.  "  He  has  tramped  the  streets  for  weeks,  look 
ing,  begging,  for  anything  to  do,  and  not  finding 
it." 

"Well,"  Durran  drew  some  consolation,  "he  can 
get  it  to-morrow — if  he  has  the  courage  to  go  into 
the  mills." 


172  CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD 

As  the  car  stopped  in  front  of  the  church,  Beatrice 
saw  some  one  going  into  the  door  of  the  parish  house. 
It  was  Manning.  She  had  not  met  him  since  the  day 
when  he  had  warned  her  against  coming  to  Staunton, 
and  she  was  so  little  willing  to  be  thrown  with  him 
now  that  she  would  have  turned  away  if  she  had  had 
any  excuse  for  doing  so.  It  was  hardly  possible,  though, 
to  say  to  Durran  that  this  workingman,  her  father's 
determined  opponent  and  particular  aversion,  loved 
her,  —  that  she  was  something  very  like  afraid  to 
meet  him  face  to  face.  She  was  not  able  to  give,  even 
to  herself,  any  reason  for  that  half  fear.  She  had 
often  enough  encountered  undisturbed  other  men  who 
had  loved  her,  or  professed  to  it.  Nor  could  she  jus 
tify  the  reluctance  to  come  upon  Manning  by  any 
doubt  as  to  the  respect  with  which  he  would  treat  her 
under  all  and  any  conditions.  She  had  now  what 
amounted  to  a  conviction  that  his  love  was  no  new 
and  sudden  thing,  but  one  of  long  duration,  deep- 
rooted  in  his  nature  and  in  the  past.  It  had  never  yet 
caused  him  to  venture  even  near  to  the  bounds  of 
familiarity,  had  indeed  made  him  take  refuge  in  an 
aloofness  which  heretofore  she  had  not  been  able  to 
explain.  And,  moreover,  Lester  would  be  in  his  office 
—  since  it  was  his  office  hour  —  and  the  presence  of  a 
third  person  would  make  the  situation  less  difficult. 
If  by  any  chance  he  were  temporarily  absent,  then  she 
would  keep  Durran. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  173 

But  Lester  was  not  in  the  office.  Manning,  who  had 
sat  down  to  make  the  attempt  to  read  the  morning's 
paper  while  he  waited,  rose  at  their  entrance.  Lester, 
he  said,  had  left  a  note  upon  the  desk,  to  the  effect  that 
he  had  been  called  away  but  would  return  in  half  an 
hour.  He  motioned  to  the  note,  which,  scribbled  large 
in  blue  pencil,  still  lay  on  the  blotter.  Durran's  brow 
contracted.  He  did  not  have  half  an  hour  to  spare. 
He  had  promised  to  meet  some  one  in  his  office  at  the 
mills.  There  was  a  perceptible  pause,  one  in  which 
was  to  be  felt  hesitation.  Manning  said  nothing.  Dur- 
ran  turned  to  him.  Was  it  his  intention  to  wait  for 
Lester  ?  It  had  been,  Manning  answered,  without  look 
ing  at  Beatrice.  Durran  was  clearly  relieved  from  a 
predicament.  With  Manning,  Beatrice  would,  if  any 
thing,  be  safer  than  with  himself. 

"  I  will  leave  Miss  Tennant  in  your  charge  then,"  he 
said,  without  doubt  of  the  arrangement  being  as  satis 
factory  to  every  one  as  to  himself.  Manning  bowed 
his  head  in  acquiescence. 

Should  he  come  back  for  her?  Durran  asked.  Bea 
trice  told  him  that  it  would  hardly  be  necessary.  Mr. 
Lester  would  take  her  across  the  river.  "  As  far  as 
that  is  concerned,"  she  added,  smiling,  "  I  am  not,  you 
know,  of  the  opinion  that  there  is  the  least  need  for 
keeping  me  under  guard." 

She  went  over  to  a  chair  near  the  window.  It  was 
at  one  end  of  a  short  deal  table.  The  one  in  which 


174  CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WORLD 

Manning  had  been  sitting  was  at  the  other.  He  re 
turned  to  it.  Had  she  seen  the  morning  paper?  he 
asked,  taking  it  up  to  pass  it  across  to  her.  A  quite 
innocent  untruth  would  have  made  it  possible  for  her 
to  avail  herself  of  the  opportunity  which  —  rather  than 
the  news  sheet  —  he  was  offering  her.  She  regretted 
instantly  as  she  answered  that  she  had,  and  so  deprived 
herself  of  the  refuge  she  could  have  taken  behind  the 
expanse  of  paper.  She  knew  that  he  would  not  now 
read  it  himself  and  leave  her  sitting  there.  He  had 
given  her  the  chance  to  ignore  his  presence,  but  he 
would  not  resort  to  ignoring  hers. 

Manning  laid  the  paper  down  and  touched  the 
middle  column  with  his  forefinger,  —  the  one,  as  it 
happened,  which  the  Greek's  knife  had  cut  and  which 
was  now  bound  with  a  strip  of  cloth.  "  Then  you  saw 
what  they  are  saying  of  me  ?  "  he  said. 

"  That  you  were  at  the  burning  of  the  effigy  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered. 

"  I  saw  it,"  she  told  him ;  "  but  I  did  not  believe  it, 
of  course." 

He  did  not  put  his  gratitude  into  words,  but  she  saw 
it  on  his  face,  —  the  dark  face  which  seemed  in  the  past 
weeks  to  have  lost  youth  and  gained  in  sternness  and 
strength.  Then  she  looked  at  his  hand.  He  had  hurt 
himself  ?  she  questioned. 

He  smiled  as  if   in  recollection  of   some   small,  in- 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  175 

effectual  exhibition  of  spite  toward  himself.  "  A  man 
came  into  my  room  last  night  on  a  little  matter  of  what 
he  thought  might  be  business.  And  because  I  didn't 
agree  with  him,  he  tried  to  knife  me.  But  he  was 
weak  from  want  of  food  and  from  too  much  whiskey, 
and  he  was  a  little  terrier  of  a  Greek  anyway.  So  this 
was  all  it  came  to."  He  dismissed  it  by  reverting  to 
the  former  subject.  "  It  was  true  in  a  way,  however, 
that  I  was  on  the  scene  of  the  burning  of  the  effigy,"  he 
said,  and  went  on  to  tell  her  that  he  had  arrived  too 
late  for  anything  but  to  see  the  cottage  burst  out  into 
flames.  He  gave  her  the  story  of  this  latter,  and  of  the 
effect  it  had  had  upon  Mrs.  Dome,  sparing  her,  though, 
the  recital  of  the  old  creature's  subsequent  ravings 
against  Tennant  and  the  masters  in  general,  to  whose  ac 
count  her  distorted  brain  managed  to  lay  this  final  mis 
fortune.  Beatrice,  however,  whom  Lester  had  already 
told  about  it,  appreciated  the  reticence. 

There  was  something  further  which  Lester  had  also 
told  her,  the  destitution  of  the  Farraday  children  and 
the  care  Manning  was  taking  of  them.  It  was  Far 
raday  himself  from  whom  Lester  had  heard  the  story. 
Beatrice  thought  of  it  as  she  listened  to  him.  And  it 
was  not  the  old  woman,  wrapped  in  the  white  counter 
pane  and  wailing  about  her  flaming  cottage,  that  she 
saw,  but  the  four  gaunt  little  unfortunates,  who,  in 
their  need,  had  gone  to  the  big  cousin  and  had  not 
found  their  confidence  misplaced.  She  knew  that  the 


176  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

tears  were  coming  into  her  eyes,  as  they  did  easily 
when  her  sympathies  were  touched,  and  she  lowered 
her  lids  quickly.  But  it  was  too  late. 

Manning's  words  stopped.  The  sentence  and  the 
story  went  unfinished.  He  sat  looking  at  her.  The 
eyes  were  still  downcast  and  the  long  lashes  were  wet. 
Her  gloved  hand  lay  on  the  table  within  his  reach. 
His  fingers  shut  around  the  newspaper  which  he  had 
folded  and  rolled  as  he  had  talked.  The  nerves  in  his 
head  were  humming  like  stretched  wires  in  the  wind, 
with  the  tenseness  of  want  of  sleep.  Things  looked 
too  far  away  to  his  sight.  There  was  an  unreality 
about  everything  he  felt  and  heard.  He  knew  that  the 
strain  of  sleeplessness  and  responsibility,  the  strain  of 
the  years  of  self-repression  in  Beatrice's  presence  and 
in  his  thoughts  of  her,  had  reached  the  utmost  point  to 
be  endured  without  the  giving  way  of  his  will.  It  had 
been  already  overmuch  that  she  had,  all  unexpected, 
come  in  upon  him  here  while  his  mind  had  been  full  of 
her,  dwelling  upon  things  in  the  past  with  an  unusual 
vividness  of  recollection.  He  saw  that  her  lids  were 
quivering.  He  knew  that  she  would  look  up,  and  he 
tried  to  force  himself  under  control.  She  raised  her 
eyes,  and  they  met  his.  When  they  fell  again,  there 
was  no  further  use  of  pretence  upon  either  part.  He 
sat  where  he  was  for  a  moment  longer.  Then  he 
put  down  the  paper  and  stood  up,  going  across  the 
room  and  coming  back,  without  purpose  but  in  the 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD  177 

necessity  for  movement.  He  came  to  a  stop  by  her 
chair. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  have  failed,"  he  said  ;  "  after  succeed 
ing  for  five  years,  as  I  think  I  did,  I  am  sorry  to  have 
let  you  know  the  truth  now.  And  after  to-day,  too,  I 
might  never  have  seen  you  again." 

Beatrice  did  not  answer  ;  she  took  up  a  pencil  which 
was  on  the  table  near  her,  but  her  hand  shook  so  much 
that  she  had  to  put  it  down  again. 

"After  to-morrow,  when  the  mills  start  up  with 
the  new  men,  I  will  probably  have  to  go  away,"  he 
went  on.  "  We  are  beaten  beforehand,  I  am  afraid, 
whether  the  fight  can  be  prevented  or  not."  He  caught 
himself  up  and  left  that  which  it  might  be  possible  for 
her  to  feel  in  the  nature  of  a  reproach.  "  I  have 
honestly  tried  to  spare  you  anything  of  this  kind,"  he 
said,  still  standing  at  a  little  distance  from  her  and 
looking  at  a  framed  photograph  of  a  Del  Sarto 
Madonna,  —  a  Sunday  school  present  to  the  rector. 
"  I  would  not  have  been  here  myself  this  morning 
unless  I  had  believed  that  you  surely  wouldn't  be 
coming  over  to  Staunton  when  things  are  as  un 
settled  as  they  are  now."  He  wondered  if  he  were 
being  intelligible  and  coherent.  His  voice  seemed  to 
him  that  of  some  one  else.  He  told  himself  with  dis 
gust  that  it  was  a  poor  sort  of  strength  that  had  not 
been  able  to  stand  firm  against  the  mere  physical  need 
of  sleep  and  the  softened  expression  of  a  woman's  eyes. 


178  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

He  went  back  to  the  chair  and  sat  in  it  so  that  he 
faced  her. 

There  was  something  in  his  unnatural  look  of  stress 
which  made  her  take  in  her  breath  sharply  between  her 
teeth.  The  force  that  showed  in  spite  of  him  dis 
mayed  her.  It  was  not  the  kind  of  mild  emotion  she 
had  seen  in  other  men  who  had  said  that  they  cared  for 
her. 

"  It  may  make  you  a  little  unhappy  for  a  while,"  he 
took  it  up,  "  but  it  can  hardly  trouble  you  very  long 
to  know  that  I  love  you,  —  that  I  have  for  a  long  time, 
and  always  shall.  Perhaps,  after  all,  it  is  just  as  well  for 
you  to  know  it.  It  can't  harm  any  woman  to  be  loved 
—  in  the  way  I  do  you.  I  have  tried  to  make  work 
and  the  other  things  crowd  you  out,  but  it  didn't  suc 
ceed.  And  no  other  affection  will  ever  do  it.  What 
ever  I  get  out  of  life  —  and  I  begin  to  think  it  won't 
be  much — I  will  have  to  do  without  any  woman's 
affection.  There  can  never  be  one  after  you." 

She  made  a  futile  gesture  to  stop  him,  but  she  found 
no  words  that  could  mean  anything  to  him  or  to  her. 
His  hand  was  lying  on  the  table  now,  as  hers  had 
been  a  few  minutes  before,  —  a  large,  well-made  hand, 
squared,  hardened,  and  marked  with  work,  darker  than 
ever  in  contrast  with  the  strip  of  white  bandage.  She 
reached  out  in  an  impulse  of  pity  and  laid  her  fingers 
upon  it.  His  teeth  shut  as  he  made  himself  endure 
the  touch  without  sign  or  response.  She  drew  back 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WOULD  179 

quickly,  as  if  realizing  the  very  mistaken  kindness  of 
the  impulse.  He  seemed  for  a  short  space  to  have 
nothing  more  to  say.  He  was  looking  at  the  hand  she 
had  withdrawn. 

"  To-morrow,  —  "  he  came  to  it  abruptly,  —  "  to-mor 
row,  if  they  bring  in  the  new  men,  there  may  be  a  fight. 
If  there  is,  I  will  be  in  the  midst  of  it  probably.  What 
ever  happens  —  however  I  come  out  —  I  hope  you 
will  still  believe  in  me.  You  must  believe  that  I  was 
there  to  try  and  stop  the  trouble,  not  to  help  it  on. 
And  if  you  ever  should  hear  of  me  in  the  future,  I 
would  like  to  have  you  think  that  I  have  done  as 
nearly  the  right  thing  as  I  could.  All  you  can  ever 
give  me  is  confidence,  and  I  promise  you  to  deserve  it." 

She  answered  that  it  would  be,  in  time  to  come,  as  it 
had  been  in  the  past,  impossible  for  her  to  do  other  than 
trust  him. 

He  rose  to  his  feet  once  more,  and  going  as  far  away 
as  the  room  would  permit,  fell  to  walking  back  and  forth 
in  measured  steps,  a  measured  distance.  Never  before 
had  he  spoken  at  such  length  in  her  hearing,  and  she 
saw  that,  having  finished  what  he  had  to  say,  he  would 
relapse  into  the  silence  which  he  had  made  it  his  habit 
to  maintain  in  her  presence. 

Outside,  two  women  in  the  street  were  calling  harshly 
to  one  another.  She  could  not  hear  what  they  said. 
She  put  up  her  hands  aimlessly  and  smoothed  her  hair. 
Manning  did  not  see  the  little  purposeless,  nervous 


180  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

movement.  He  kept  on  pacing  slowly  up  and  down. 
He  could  not  go  away  and  leave  her,  as  he  had  prom 
ised  Durran  to  stay  until  Lester  should  come.  But  at 
least  he  could  make  it  better  for  her  by  going  out  into 
the  hall.  He  had  left  his  hat  on  the  table,  and  he 
crossed  back  to  get  it.  He  took  it  up  and  stood 
near  her. 

"  I  will  wait  outside  until  Mr.  Lester  comes,"  he 
told  her.  "  And  —  if  I  should  never  see  you  again  —  " 
for  an  instant  and  for  the  first  time  he  was  not 
quite  master  of  his  voice,  then  he  made  an  effort  and 
went  on  —  "if  I  never  see  you  again  after  to-day, 
you  will  be  none  the  worse  for  my  having  loved 
you  —  and  I  will  always  be  much  the  better." 

When  the  door  had  shut  after  him  she  too  sat 
looking  at  the  Madonna.  She  read  the  lettering 
beneath  it  without  knowing  that  she  did  so,  with 
out  its  conveying  any  meaning  to  her.  The  only 
feeling  of  which  she  seemed  to  be  conscious  was  a 
dull  regret,  a  sense  of  the  futility,  the  uselessness  of 
it,  that  this  should  have  been  Manning's  portion  in 
life. 

Out  in  the  hall  his  footsteps  passed  and  repassed 
the  door  at  regular  intervals. 

At  last  she  heard  other  steps  approaching,  heard 
Lester's  greeting,  and  some  undistinguishable  answer 
in  Manning's  deep,  carrying  tones.  The  two  talked 
for  a  few  minutes.  Then  there  were  again  steps  on 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  181 

the  walk  outside  —  this  time  going  away  from  the 
building.  The  door  opened  and  Lester  came  in. 
Beatrice  had,  it  seemed,  been  reading  the  church 
calendar.  She  was  standing  by  the  fireplace  where 
it  hung. 

"Manning  told  me  that  you  were  here,"  he  said, 
and  added  his  regret  that  she  had  been  obliged  to 
wait.  "  I  have  sent  Manning  back  to  his  room  to 
get  some  sleep,"  he  reverted.  "  It  is  more  than  forty- 
eight  hours,  he  tells  me,  since  he  has  had  any.  He 
has  no  business  to  trade  on  a  magnificent  constitu 
tion  and  iron  nerves  like  that.  The  nerves  are  at 
the  snapping  point  already,  and  he  looks  completely 
done."  He  seemed  to  be  thinking  of  something,  and 
stood  by  the  desk  looking  down  at  the  note  he  him 
self  had  left.  He  picked  it  up,  crumpled  it,  and 
threw  it  into  the  waste-basket.  Then  he  raised  his 
head.  "I  wrote  you,  you  remember,  that  he  had 
been  taking  care  of  those  Farraday  children.  Well 
—  he  came  to  ask  me  to  keep  on  with  it,  in  the 
event  df  any  mishap  to  himself  to-morrow.  He 
gave  me  some  money  for  them."  He  looked  over 
the  papers  in  the  desk,  found  a  letter  for  which 
he  was  apparently  searching,  and  put  it  into  his 
pocket.  "  Whatever  the  results  of  to-morrow  are," 
he  said,  "  Manning  will  undoubtedly  be  lost  to 
Staunton  for  good  and  all.  And  there  are  others 
besides  myself  who  will  realize  the  loss." 


CHAPTER  XV 

Parceque  1'homme  dans  les  grandes  crises  retourne  bien  vite  k 
ses  instincts  d'origine,  qui  sont  ceux  d'une  bete  mechante. —  Vue 
Generate  de  VHistoire  Politique  de  I'Europe. 

Because  man  in  great  crises  returns  quickly  to  his  original  in 
stincts,  which  are  those  of  a  fierce  beast.  —  General  View  of  the 
Political  History  of  Europe. 

THE  scream  of  a  steam  whistle,  shrill  and  strident, 
cut  through  the  gray,  rain-streaked  dawn.  A  whis 
tle  across  the  river  took  it  up,  far  off  and  faint.  A 
smaller,  higher-pitched  one  near  by  joined  in.  The 
air  was  full  of  the  keen  shrieks.  And  they  told  the 
Staunton  workmen  —  by  prearranged  signal  —  that 
others  were  coming  to  start  the  mills,  and  that  the 
way  was  up  the  river  by  boat. 

The  pickets,  who  for  some  days  past  had  been 
stationed  along  the  banks,  had  given  warning  of  the 
approach  of  what  was,  to  the  greater  part  of  the 
steel  workers,  the  dreaded  and  detested  enemy,  though 
to  a  fair-sized  minority  the  deliverers  from  compul 
sion  and  idleness. 

As  the  first  whistle  began  to  blow,  Manning  went 
to  his  window  and  looked  out.  He  had  gone  from 
Lester  on  the  previous  morning  with  a  dull  sense 

182 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  183 

that  the  crisis  of  his  life  had  been  and  passed,  and 
had  left  him,  thenceforth,  empty-handed.  There  had 
been  no  more  committee  work  for  him  to  do,  the 
tension  of  his  mind  and  body  had  seemed  relaxed, 
and  he  had  thrown  himself  upon  his  iron  bed  and 
slept,  heavily,  deadly,  until  within  an  hour  before  the 
sounding  of  the  signals.  Now  he  was  fully  dressed 
and  ready.  He  went  out  of  the  room,  down  the 
stairs,  and  into  the  street.  At  the  first  whistle  there 
had  not  been  a  light  in  the  town  save  perhaps  that 
of  his  own  lamp.  Now  there  was  one  in  almost 
every  window.  Distorted  shadows  were  passing  back 
and  forth  across  the  curtains.  There  were  already 
a  good  many  men  about.  And  he  saw  with  fore 
boding  that  his  personal  exertions  had  not  pre 
vented  the  saloons  from  opening  or  from  being 
patronized.  He  looked  up  at  the  Farraday  win 
dow  as  he  passed.  There  was  a  faint  light  there 
also.  He  knew  that  Farraday  had  left  town  the 
day  before,  as  many  of  the  non-union  men  had  been 
doing  recently.  And  he  believed  that  he,  like  the 
rest,  had  gone  up  the  river  a  distance  to  join  the 
new  men  who  were  being  brought,  and  so  put  them 
selves  the  more  immediately  under  the  company's 
protection.  It  must  be  Nettie,  then,  who  was  stir 
ring  in  the  room.  He  hoped  that  she  and  the  chil 
dren  would  not  come  out  into  the  streets,  but  he 
feared  that  they  would.  Nettie  had,  as  had  before 


184  CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD 

been  manifested,  the  love  of  a  fight  for  its  own 
sake,  which  came  to  her  fairly  in  that  strain  of  her 
blood  which  was  Hibernian. 

And  had  he  but  known  it,  she  was  even  now  roused 
to  a  pitch  of  expectation,  and  had  worked  the  two  little 
boys  up  in  the  same  degree.  She  had  found  a  couple 
of  inches  of  dusty  candle,  and  had  stuck  it  with  its 
own  grease  on  the  edge  of  the  cold  stove.  By  its  light 
she  was  dressing  the  baby.  She  herself  and  the  boys 
had  no  need  of  any  such  ceremony.  They  slept  and 
waked  in  the  garments  they  had  on.  But  Nettie  had 
upon  her  own  account  devised  a  nightgown  for  the 
baby,  making  it  from  some  purple  cotton  with  large 
yellow  and  green  pansies  which  had  been  given  her 
once  by  a  neighbor.  Its  fashioning  was  of  the  simplest 
—  a  long,  straight  piece  with  a  slit  for  the  head  to  go 
through.  And  it  was  tied  under  the  arms  by  a  torn 
strip  of  the  same.  It  was  a  possession  which  put  the 
baby  upon  a  higher  plane  than  the  rest. 

While  the  little  boys  watched  with  impatience  the 
superfluous  process  of  dressing  their  infant  sister,  the 
older  one  encouraged  them  with  forecasts  of  the  fight 
to  be. 

"An  A  No.  1  scrap,"  she  keyed  up  their  expecta 
tions, —  "with  stones  an'  knives  an'  maybe  guns." 

They  wriggled,  half  delighted,  half  scared,  and  the 
small  three-year-old  lisped  after  the  big  sister  who 
controlled  their  destinies,  "  Sthones  an'  knifes  an'  duns." 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  185 

When  the  baby  was  ready  and  hoisted  to  Nettie's 
shoulder  they  went  out,  the  four  of  them,  scuttling 
along  in  the  drizzling,  but  lessening,  rain. 

Manning  found  them  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd, 
which  was  fast  gathering  by  the  white  fence.  He 
asked  Nettie  what  she  intended  to  do.  Nettie  shifted 
the  baby's  weight  and  looked  up.  The  other  three 
were,  as  usual,  staring  him  out  of  countenance  with 
solemn  interest  and  awe.  Nettie  expressed  her  in 
tention  of  seeing  any  fight  that  might  happen.  He 
told  her  that  there  might  not  be  any  to  see,  and  that 
the  best  thing  she  could  do  would  be  to  take  herself 
and  the  children  home  again. 

"What  for,"  said  Nettie,  "if  there  ain't  going 
to  be  no  scrap  ? "  She  was  not  to  be  deceived  by 
shallow  reasonings. 

"  There  may  be,"  he  answered. 

"  Then  I'm  going  to  see  it,"  she  repeated. 

To  his  command  that  she  go  back  she  returned  a  flat 
refusal.  She  remembered  that  he  had  been  good  to 
her,  but  there  were  certain  bounds  beyond  which 
gratitude  could  not  be  expected  to  go.  When  he  put 
a  heavy  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  by  way  of  compul 
sion,  she  slipped  from  under  it,  and  setting  the  baby 
upon  its  legs  —  the  which  bowed  and  unsteady  props 
at  once  gave  way  —  she  faced  her  tall  cousin  with  her 
fists  on  her  hips.  It  was  a  shrill  stand  for  her  freedom 
of  action  that  she  made,  and  he  knew  that  unless  he 


186  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

were  to  pick  her  up  and  carry  her,  she  could  never  be 
got  away.  He  had  no  time  for  that,  and  he  would 
hardly  have  enjoyed  the  wild-cat  struggle  she  would 
have  made. 

"  You  will  be  hurt,"  he  said,  more  than  a  little 
angry. 

She  stuck  out  her  sharp  chin  in  disdain  of  bodily 
wounds. 

"  The  baby  may  be  killed."  He  appealed  to  the  near 
est  approach  to  softness  he  had  found  in  her  nature. 
But  even  that  was  in  vain. 

"No,  she  won't,"  said  Nettie,  once  more  taking  up 
that  burden  of  her  unyouthful  childhood.  She  de 
parted  into  the  thick  of  the  crowd,  and  the  two  boys 
trotted  trustingly  after  her.  Manning  had  to  let  them 
go. 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  crowd.  It  began  to 
surge  and  jostle  in  one  direction.  He  turned  in  that 
direction  himself.  Through  the  gray  of  the  rain  he 
could  see  a  man  standing  in  a  big,  empty  dray.  He 
could  not  discern  who  it  was,  but  the  sound  of  an 
haranguing  voice  reached  him,  and  it  was  not  a  good 
occasion  for  any  chance  oratory.  He  put  his  superior 
strength  to  use  and  pushed  his  way  through  to  the 
wagon.  Then  he  saw  that  it  was  Lockhart,  who  was 
taking  this  opportunity  to  make  the  public  speech 
which  the  wiser  of  the  committeemen  had,  up  to  now, 
been  able  to  keep  him  from.  He  was  well  into  it 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  187 

already,  and  he  was  being  listened  to.  He  was  doing 
the  very  thing  which,  to  Manning,  it  seemed  most 
desirable  to  avoid,  —  dwelling  upon  wrongs,  real  and 
invented,  and  lashing  those  who  were  only  too  ready 
to  plunge  under  even  the  nrmest  rein  and  gentlest 
handling.  Would  they,  he  asked,  stand  meekly  by 
and  let  a  set  of  many  times  cursed  black  sheep  come 
in  and  take  their  homes  and  their  work  and  the  bread 
out  of  their  mouths  ?  There  was  too  much  truth  in 
what  he  argued  as  to  the  homes  representing  all  the 
toil  and  hard  savings  of  years  for  it  not  to  carry  deep 
into  some  sore-tried  and  desperate  hearts  —  though  it 
was,  upon  the  whole,  those  who  had  no  homes  and  had 
made  no  exertion  to  obtain  them  who  were  the  most 
inflammable. 

"  You  let  them  scabs  get  into  there  once  and  start  up 
the  mills,  and  before  you  know  it  more  will  come  — 
enough  for  the  company  to  run  full  with.  Then  you'll 
be  out  of  your  jobs  here  —  and  blacklisted  in  every 
other  concern  in  this  free  country."  He  denounced  the 
employers  and  railed  at  their  consistency.  "  They  are 
in  a  hurry  to  say  that  every  man  has  got  a  right  to  work 
if  he  wants  to,  whether  he  belongs  to  a  union  or  not. 
That's  when  they  want  to  use  scabs  who  ain't  men  enough 
to  stand  for  their  rights.  But  they  don't  think  so  when 
they  send  out  a  black-list  —  and  the  courts  you  pay  taxes 
to  keep  says  they  are  right  —  that  the  black-list  is  legal, 
but  picketing  and  the  boycott's  all  wrong." 


188  CAPTAINS  OF   THE   WOELD 

The  listeners  were  being  played  upon  dangerously. 
Enthusiasm  is  so  largely  a  matter  of  friction  that  what 
may  leave  one  little  moved  will  work  a  thousand  to 
frenzy.  Lockhart  might  have  gone  on  indefinitely  until 
the  boats  should  have  come  into  sight  upon  the  mist- 
shrouded  river;  but  Manning  was  beside  him  in  the 
wagon. 

"  You  have  got  to  stop  this,  Lockhart,  "  he  said.  It 
was  measured,  and  lost  no  determination  through  being 
quiet. 

Lockhart  was  not  quiet.  He  shouted  his  rage  and 
refusal  for  all  the  crowd  to  hear.  "  You've  run  the  town 
too  long  and  done  nobody  any  good,"  he  defied.  Then 
he  turned  to  the  rest.  "  Shall  I  tell  you  all  what  he's 
been  doing  ?  "  He  was  shaking  his  fist  in  Manning's 
face  the  while.  "  Shall  I  tell  you  ?  He  has  been  in 
Tennant's  pay  to  keep  you  still  while  the  blacklegs  are 
brought  in." 

Without  further  parley  Manning  lifted  him  up  by  the 
collar  of  his  coat,  and  with  a  warning  to  those  below, 
dropped  him  down  to  the  ground.  Then  he  stood  erect 
again  and  looked  out  over  them.  There  were  thousands 
already,  crushed  close  in  the  fine  rain.  Women  jostled 
and  held  their  places  with  the  men,  their  shawls  and 
aprons  often  filled  with  stones  and  broken  bricks.  Man 
ning  did  not  doubt  that  the  men  had  among  them  re 
volvers  and  knives.  It  was  a  formidable  mob,  in  all  the 
savagery  of  the  half -awake  early  day.  The  warm,  moist 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  189 

air  reeked  with  the  odor  of  soaked  and  foul  clothing  and 
with  liquor  fumes,  and  there  occurred  to  Manning  the 
disgusted  thought  that  a  pack  of  beasts  would  have  been 
infinitely  more  admirable,  more  respect-inspiring,  that 
the  possible  superiority  of  man  above  the  animals  is 
only  to  be  measured  by  his  possible  debasement  below 
them. 

His  figure  stood  out  large  in  the  mist  of  the  drizzle. 
And  after  a  momentary  delay  and  uncertainty  the  crowd 
laughed  and  applauded.  They  liked  him  better  than 
Lockhart,  and  their  admiration  for  sheer,  confident 
strength,  their  love  of  comedy,  had  been  touched. 

He  spoke  to  them  himself,  undoing  as  much  as  he 
could  the  effect  the  other  had  produced. 

"  What  Lockhart  has  said  about  me,"  he  briefly  dis 
missed  the  charge  against  himself,  "  is  not  worth  my 
denying.  Unless  you  already  believe  it  to  be  a  lie, 
nothing  I  can  say  will  make  you." 

They  cheered  again,  but  a  little  weakly.  It  was  evi 
dent  that  if  the  accusation  was  not  credited,  at  least  it 
had  raised  suspicion  in  their  minds. 

Lockhart  was  down  in  the  press  and  trying  to  get 
up  on  the  dray  again.  They  found  some  amusement  in 
keeping  him  back  every  time  that  he  set  his  foot  upon 
the  hub  to  climb  in.  He  swore  as  he  hit  them  off.  A 
man  put  a  hand  over  his  mouth  with  an  order  to  "  let 
the  other  fellow  have  his  say  now."  Lockhart  bit  the 
flesh  at  the  base  of  the  thumb,  until  his  long  teeth 


190  CAPTAINS   OF   THE    WOULD 

met.  The  man  knocked  him  down  and  kicked  him  in 
the  head  with  his  boot. 

It  was  done  quickly  and  with  little  noise.  But  Lock- 
hart  was  stunned.  It  was  the  second  time  that  he  had 
been  put  out  of  the  field  with  only  his  own  uncontrol 
lable  temper  to  thank.  They  lifted  him  into  the  back 
of  the  dray,  indifferent  as  to  how  he  should  come 
out.  Manning  had  noticed  nothing  of  it,  and  was  still 
speaking. 

"  But  it  is  worth  my  while,"  he  had  said,  "  to  assure 
you  of  what  you  already  know,  that  any  fighting  to-day 
will  lose  us  our  last  chance.  Otherwise  there  is  still 
the  hope  that  the  sympathy  of  fellow-workmen  and  of 
the  public  may  make  it  impossible  for  the  company  to 
find  enough  non-union  men  to  run  its  plants.  If  there 
is  one  thing  we  had,  for  our  own  sakes,  better  not  do,  it 
is  to  make  so  much  trouble  that  the  sheriff  will  be  use 
less  and  the  militia  necessary."  He  kept  on  arguing 
and  talking  against  time  in  the  same  strain,  and  repeat 
ing,  once  and  again,  with  a  realization  that  to  the  dull 
of  perception,  as  to  the  heathen,  repetition  is  needed 
and  not  vain. 

He  accomplished  so  much  that  when  a  tug,  having  in 
tow  two  barges,  came  into  sight  down  the  river,  they 
took  it  almost  quietly.  Even  that  was  better  than  he 
had  hoped  for.  Instead  of  breaking  through  the  fence 
and  beginning  demonstrations  at  once,  to  prevent  a  land 
ing,  they  scattered  to  the  roofs  of  houses,  and  to  the 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  191 

river's  edge,  where  the  formation  of  the  bank  and  a 
curve  in  the  river  itself  made  it  possible  for  them  to  see 
around  the  fence  into  the  yards. 

A  good  many  police  and  uniformed  watchmen  had 
been  got  in  during  the  night.  There  was  some  shout 
ing  and  gesticulating  from  those  on  the  bank,  but 
that,  so  far,  was  all. 

Lockhart  was  not  sufficiently  recovered  to  be  at 
trouble-making  again.  And  the  dispersion  of  the 
crowd  toward  a  new  centre  of  interest  made  it  use 
less  for  Manning  to  attempt  further  speech.  He 
stood  talking  with  Kemble  and  several  others  who 
belonged  to  the  committee.  Kemble  was  nervous  and 
distressed  almost  to  the  point  of  tears. 

They  were  on  the  sidewalk  directly  in  front  of 
the  Halloran  place.  Laura  Halloran  was  in  her  usual 
place  back  of  the  showcase  of  the  cigar  counter. 
Clement  was  leaning  upon  the  glass,  talking  with  her. 
Though  he  knew  himself  to  be  under  suspicion  now, 
as  a  consequence  of  having  been  seen  at  the  effigy- 
burning,  he  had  managed  so  well  that  it  had  been 
possible  to  prove  nothing  worse  against  him  than  the 
undue  curiosity  he  had  penitently  admitted.  So  he 
had  been  allowed  to  remain  in  the  town. 

The  girl,  as  he  talked  to  her  now,  looked  wretched 
and  on  the  defensive.  "  He  ain't  done  me  no  harm, 
though,"  she  said  in  an  abject  and  beseeching  whis 
per.  "  How  do  I  know  but  what  it  will  kill  him  ?  " 


192  CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD 

"You  know  because  I  tell  you  —  that's  how," 
answered  Clement,  with  the  accent  of  the  master. 
"  Are  you  going  to  do  it  ? " 

"But  what  for?"  she  put  it  off  'still.  "He  ain't 
going  to  make  a  fight.  He's  going  to  stop  it  if  he 
can,  ain't  he  ?  " 

"  He  can't  stop  it,"  retorted  Clement,  angry  at 
losing  time  when  time  was  precious.  That  which  he 
was  engaged  in  now  was  not  the  company's  business 
and  behest.  He  was  earning  an  honest  penny  from 
that  faction  of  the  committee  which  hated  Manning 
and  all  his  works.  "  Don't  you  try  making  me  give 
you  my  reasons  for  everything,  anyway,"  he  threat 
ened.  "  They're  my  reasons,  and  that's  all  you've  got 
to  know.  —  Are  you  going  to  do  it  ?  "  he  repeated 
the  question. 

"  No  !  "  she  said,  with  too  much  defiance  to  be  con 
vincing.  He  knew  that  she  would,  that  she  would 
do  more  even  than  he  was  asking  in  order  to  hold 
him,  to  try  and  make  him  marry  her  —  the  which, 
being  already  tired  of  her,  he  had  no  least  inten 
tion  of  doing. 

But  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  made  as  if  to  walk 
away. 

"  Here  —  Clement  —  give  it  to  me,"  she  surrendered 
unconditionally. 

He  put  his  hand  over  hers  as  if  to  clasp  it,  and 
left  a  small  vial  there.  "  Don't  drop  it,"  he  advised 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WOKLD  193 

in  lordly  tones,  which  implied  that  to  do  so  would 
bring  his  displeasure  upon  her  head. 

She  touched  his  shoulder  appealingly,  in  a  way 
which  begged  forgiveness  and  approval. 

"  That's  all  right,"  he  told  her  magnanimously,  then 
added  a  caution  that  the  affair  in  hand  be  properly 
attended  to. 

His  own  part  was  done  when  he  had  passed  the  word 
to  a  man  who  waited  not  far  off  —  a  member  of  the  com 
mittee.  The  latter  walked  over  and  joined  the  group 
with  which  Manning  stood.  Presently  he  suggested 
that  he  was  himself  going  into  the  Halloran  place  for 
a  cup  of  coffee,  and  asked  Manning  and  Kemble  to 
go  with  him.  Manning,  he  urged,  had  already  done 
a  good  morning's  work  and  might  have  to  be  here 
all  day,  with  no  chance  to  return  to  his  boarding 
place. 

It  was  obviously  good  counsel.  Manning  went  to 
where  he  could  see  the  tug  and  barges.  They  were 
moving  very  slowly  against  the  strong  current  and 
were  still  well  away  from  the  landing  inside  the  yards. 
He  would,  he  concluded,  have  time  to  take  the  coffee. 
He  joined  the  man  who  had  extended  the  invitation, 
and  went  with  him  and  Kemble  into  Mrs.  Halloran's 
restaurant.  The  coffee  was  hot  and  very  strong. 
They  drank  it  and  ate  some  bread,  then  went  out 
into  the  street  again. 

Manning    returned    to  the    river   bank,  where    the 


194  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

crowd  was  thickest  and  momentarily  growing.  The 
barges  were  coming  close  to  the  landing,  and  the  men 
upon  them  could  be  plainly  seen.  It  was  a  sight 
to  arouse  those  upon  the  bank.  These  shouted  warn 
ings,  appeals,  and  threats.  It  was  an  unintelligible 
uproar.  Some  who  had  already  worked  in  the  plant 
were  recognized  and  pointed  out.  Among  them  was 
Farraday. 

Those  on  the  outside  of  the  stockade  watched  the  tug 
manoeuvre  the  first  barge  to  the  side  of  the  wharf. 

There  was  a  silence  upon  the  bank  —  a  silence  of 
dread  and  hate  and  fear.  The  thousands  of  men  and 
women  were  looking  upon  the  coming  of  those  who 
were  to  drive  them  out  into  the  unknown,  uncertain 
future,  where  homelessness,  starvation,  and  crime  might 
be  their  portion ;  who  were  to  take  from  them  all  their 
associations,  friends,  and  ties,  the  savings  of  their  lives, 
the  homes  which  they  had  been  encouraged  to  come 
here  and  build,  and  from  which  now  —  because  they 
had  formed  certain  convictions  and  wished  to  live  up 
to  them  —  they  were  to  be  turned.  It  would  have 
needed  natures  trained  to  a  rare,  inhuman  height  of 
philosophy,  wisdom,  and  foresight  to  stand  calmly  and 
watch  and  wait.  Yet  they  might  have  done  little  more 
had  it  not  been  for  a  sudden  and  unexpected  impulse 
being  given  them. 

A  voice  broke  the  silence  which  had  fallen  after  the 
first  burst  of  uproar.  "  My  God  !  my  God !  "  was  the 


CAPTAINS  OF  THE   WORLD  195 

loud  wail  that  went  up  to  the  gloomy  sky.  "  They're 
enough  to  start  up  the  mills  !  We're  beat  !  And  my 
house  is  here  —  everything  I  got  in  the  world  —  every 
thing  —  everything  !  " 

The  men  were  beginning  to  pour  out  from  the  barge 
upon  the  landing,  and  to  scramble  up  the  embankment. 
They  themselves  were  not  happy  as  they  looked  dubi 
ously  over  the  moving,  muttering  mass  of  angry  hu 
manity  outside  the  frail  stockade.  Except  for  a  dozen 
or  two  professional  strike  breakers,  they  were  not  doing 
this  thing  from  choice,  but  of  hard  necessity.  Theirs 
was  something  the  plight  of  those  Roman  Catholic 
prisoners  whom  a  Huguenot  general  forced  to  the  top 
of  their  fortress,  offering  them  the  choice  of  dying 
there  or  jumping  upon  the  points  of  spears  set  up 
below  ;  of  those  Britons  who  sent  word  to  Rome  that 
the  barbarians  drove  them  into  the  sea,  and  the  sea 
drove  them  back  again  upon  the  barbarians. 

Regardless  of  the  barbed  wire  on  the  top  of  the 
fence,  some  had  raised  themselves  to  look  over.  Others 
had  clambered  upon  the  shoulders  of  those  near  at 
hand,  that  they  might  the  better  see.  Of  these  was 
a  Pole  armed  with  a  large  revolver.  Whether  it 
were  through  intent  or  through  mischance,  or  a 
tightened  grasp  as  he  balanced  in  his  precarious  po 
sition,  the  revolver  was  discharged  three  times  in  quick 
succession.  A  policeman  within  the  stockade  fell. 
The  rest  drew  their  own  revolvers  and  returned  the 


196  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

fire.  Two  men  in  the  crowd  screamed  out  that  they 
were  hit.  And  the  fight  was  on. 

A  piece  of  a  slag  broke  a  board  from  the  fence.  It 
gave  a  hold,  and  another  and  another  were  ripped  out. 
The  crowd  pressed  tumbling  through,  with  women 
among  the  leaders. 

Manning,  too,  forced  his  way  through,  and  made  at  a 
run  ahead  of  the  rest,  for  the  top  of  a  pile  of  finished 
beams.  The  yards  were  filling  with  the  heaving, 
swaying  heads  and  shoulders  of  a  mob  which  howled 
and  shouted  and  fired  recklessly,  and  drove  back  the 
few  policemen  with  brickbats,  stones,  and  slag. 

The  sheriff  who  had  come  across  the  river  in  a  launch 
with  his  deputies  made  no  attempt  at  a  stand.  He  was 
retreating  to  his  boat. 

Manning,  looking  down,  felt  his  sight  blurred,  his 
head  dizzy,  his  ears  deadened.  He  tried  to  call  out, 
but  his  voice  would  not  come  loudly  enough  to  be 
heard  even  a  few  feet  away.  He  jerked  at  his  collar, 
put  both  hands  to  his  throat,  and  tried  again.  It  was 
without  better  result.  He  flung  out  his  arms  and  from 
his  commanding  position  motioned  them  to  stop.  The 
dizziness  was  growing  worse.  The  firing  had  stopped, 
but  the  yells  which  continued  as  the  new  men  fell  back 
upon  the  barges  seemed  to  reach  him  out  of  an  infinite 
distance,  muffled,  indistinct.  He  stood  swaying.  Had 
he  been  poisoned  with  the  coffee,  he  wondered  dully, 
or  only  drugged  ?  If  he  could  keep  up  here  in  the  air, 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  197 

above  the  crowd,  he  might  yet  fight  off  the  effects,  per 
haps.  He  turned  up  to  the  hard  light  of  the  clearing 
sky  a  face  of  yellow  pallor,  strained,  contorted  with  the 
desperate  battle  against  encroaching  oblivion.  There 
pierced  into  his  brain  a  child's  shrill  shriek,  like  the  yelp 
of  a  little  dog  being  hurt.  It  roused  him  to  try  once 
more  to  stop  the  mob.  But  he  was  no  longer  in  the  fore 
front,  in  a  position  where  he  might  perhaps  secure  atten 
tion.  He  was  up  above  a  huddling  mass  that  was  all 
about  him.  He  must  get  down  if  he  could  and  keep  ahead. 
As  he  started  to  do  so,  another  random  shot  was  fired 
from  among  the  workmen.  He  knew  that  a  bullet  went 
through  his  hand,  through  the  hollow  of  his  palm,  but 
he  hardly  felt  it.  He  was  down  from  the  pile  of  beams, 
in  the  current  of  the  crowd.  It  was  pushing,  beating, 
scratching,  choking,  some  trying  to  fight  back,  some 
struggling  to  get  on  and  at  the  throats  of  the  invaders. 
He  was  dragged  down,  sucked  under  as  one  is  sucked 
beneath  the  surface  by  an  undertow,  into  the  strange 
livid  light,  amid  the  whirling  sand  and  the  dark  rocks. 
He  caught  at  hands,  at  coats,  then  at  legs  and  feet, 
then  his  fingers  dug  into  the  mud.  Up  above  him  was 
a  long-drawn  wild  beast's  yarr. 
It  died  vaguely  in  his  ears. 

An  hour  later  the  restaurant  of  the  Halloran  woman 
was  become  a  hospital.  Upon  the  floor,  pushed  now 
to  one  side  by  the  body  of  a  watchman  who  was  also 


198  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

past  need  of  care,  lay  Farraday.  His  weary,  patient 
limping  through  a  life  of  bootless  toil  was  at  an  end  ; 
and  what  had  been  the  deep-lined,  worried,  good- 
humored  face,  with  its  pathetic  blue  eyes,  was 
covered  now  with  a  coat,  that  the  sight  of  the  features, 
marred  and  crushed  and  blood-caked  beyond  recogni 
tion,  might  be  spared.  He  had  been  beaten  to  death 
by  three  of  the  men  who  once  had  been  his  fellow- 
laborers,  who  had  caught  him  and  brought  him  to  the 
ground  with  clubs  and  stones. 

On  a  long  table  at  the  farther  end  lay  Clement, 
alive,  but  unconscious  and  seriously  injured.  A  doc 
tor  was  working  with  him,  and  Laura  Halloran  was 
clinging  to  one  of  his  arms,  calling  upon  him  with 
cries  and  meanings  :  out  of  all  reason  through  grief 
and  terror. 

And  on  another  table,  the  same  one  at  which  he 
had  sat  earlier  in  the  morning  to  drink  his  coffee, 
Manning  was  stretched  at  his  length.  They  had 
bound  up  his  hand  and  washed  the  mud  and  the 
stains  of  blood  from  his  face.  The  wet,  dark  hair 
was  plastered  back  from  his  forehead.  There  was  a  cut 
above  his  temple  where  a  boot  heel  had  hit.  After 
a  time  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  they  helped  him  to 
rise  and  to  go  to  a  chair.  And  when  he  could  listen, 
they  told  him  so  much  as  they  knew,  up  to  now,  of  the 
results  of  the  fight.  The  tug  captain  had  been  killed, — 
shot  —  by  whom  it  was  not  known.  A  policeman, 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  199 

three  of  their  own  men,  and  four  of  the  new  ones,  were 
dead.  The  yards  were  in  possession  of  the  company's 
forces.  No  women  had  been  seriously  hurt,  though 
one  child  had  been  trampled  upon.  No,  —  they  told 
him,  when  he  asked,  —  it  had  not  been  one  of  the 
little  Farradays.  Those  were  safe.  But  their  father  — 
they  pointed  to  the  two  still  figures  on  the  floor  by 
the  wall.  One  of  those  was  Farraday. 

A  man  came  up  to  where  Manning  sat.  "  Who  done 
for  you  ?  "  he  asked  ;  "  the  scabs  ?  "  Manning  raised 
himself  from  the  chair  and  stood  erect,  gray-faced,  and 
with  swimming  head,  holding  on  to  the  nearest  shoulder. 
"  No  —  you,"  he  answered  grimly,  —  "  and  for  your 
selves." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

We  came  :  the  dust  storm  brought  us  :  who  knows  where  the  dust 

was  born  ? 

Behind  the  curtains  of  heaven  and  the  courts  of  the  silver  morn ; 
We  go  where  the  dust  storm  whirls  us,  loose  leaves  blown  one  by 

one 
Through  the  light,  toward  the  shadows  of  evening,  down  the  tracks 

of  the  sloping  sun ; 
We  are  blown  of  the  dust  that  is  many,  and  we  rest  in  the  dust 

that  is  one. 

UPON  more  than  one  occasion  the  mistress  in  the 
school  and  the  sisters  in  the  convent  had  had  to  use 
their  authority  to  discourage  upon  the  part  of  the 
maidens  under  their  care  an  all-absorbing,  work-im 
peding  devotion  to  their  sweetly  and  serenely  indif 
ferent  companion,  Beatrice  Tennant ;  against  whom  it 
appeared  to  be  impossible  to  hold  any  charge  of  hav 
ing,  by  conscious  word  or  act,  brought  about  the  state 
of  mind  which  interfered  with  serious  work,  with  any 
thing  but  a  desire  to  gaze  upon  and  be  near  her,  antici 
pating  her  least  wish  or  fancy.  And  since  she  had  left 
school,  Beatrice  had  not  altogether  escaped  from  these 
infatuations  upon  the  part  of  her  own  sex.  There  had 
been  occasions  when  she  had  wished  that  the  mistresses 
and  sisters  might  still  have  been  able  to  interfere  and 

200 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD  201 

save  her  from  feminine  attentions  that  irked  and  bound 
her  not  a  little. 

She  uttered  the  wish  to  herself  now,  as  her  maid 
brought  a  card  into  her  bedroom,  and,  obeying  the 
request  to  read  it  —  since  Beatrice  was  at  the 
moment  engaged  in  making  fast  her  veil  —  gave 
the  information  that  the  caller  was  Miss  Evelyn 
Woolmer. 

Miss  Woolmer,  only  daughter  of  the  coke  magnate, 
excused,  upon  the  grounds  of  much  occupation  with 
serious  things,  the  fact  that  Miss  Tennant  did  not 
return  one  in  ten  of  her  own  visits,  and  forgivingly 
presented  herself  at  the  Tennant  house  with  great 
frequency.  And  always,  it  seemed  to  Beatrice,  at 
the  minute  when  she  was  the  least  wanted. 

Miss  Woolmer's  qualities  were  of  the  sort  which 
usually  cause  the  possessor  to  be  described  as  a  sweet 
little  girl.  The  most  exhausting  manner  of  pass 
ing  an  hour  which  Beatrice  was  able  to  conceive 
was  to  spend  it  in  conversation  with  her  ;  and 
she  had  never  felt  less  like  exerting  herself  to  the 
effort  than  she  did  to-day.  Yet,  as  Miss  Wool 
mer  must  have  seen  the  trap  waiting  at  the  door,  it 
was  not  possible  to  send  down  by  the  footman  any 
message  of  excuse  ;  and  unless  Beatrice  wished  to 
forego  her  drive  and  spend  the  rest  of  a  fine  after 
noon  within  doors,  the  only  course  remaining  was 
to  ask  the  girl  to  drive  with  her.  This,  upon  going 


202  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

into  the  drawing-room,  she  did  ;  and  she  was  after 
wards  able  to  look  back  upon  the  quick  and  pleased 
acceptance  as  the  slight  chance  upon  which  had  turned 
her  father's  death,  the  change  of  direction  and  end  of 
her  own  entire  life. 

"  I  can  send  away  my  own  carriage,"  Miss  Wool- 
mer  said  with  alacrity.  "  You  can  leave  me  at  home, 
can  you  not,  dear  ?  "  "  To  be  sure,"  answered  Beatrice, 
unconsciously  sealing  fate. 

Miss  Woolmer  had  imitated  Miss  Tennant  in  so  far 
as  to  have  a  boy  for  her  own  footman,  but  beyond 
that  the  resemblance  ceased.  For  the  undersized 
youth  who,  obedient  to  his  mistress's  behest,  stood 
erect  with  folded  arms  by  the  step  of  the  little 
Victoria  was  an  absurd  figure  in  doeskin,  varnished 
top  boots,  a  silk  hat,  and  a  coat  just  escaping  his 
meagre  knees  and  spreading  into  a  wide  skirt.  Miss 
Woolmer,  as  Beatrice  knew,  was  inclined  to  look  upon 
him  as,  in  a  way,  a  monument  to  her  own  unex 
ceptionable  knowledge  of  the  suitable  and  correct. 
She  told  him  now  that  he  and  the  carriage  would 
no  longer  be  wanted  for  the  afternoon,  and  when 
Miss  Tennant's  trap  drove  up  to  the  block,  she  took 
her  place  in  it.  The  groom  gave  the  reins  into 
Beatrice's  hands  and  the  little  black  mare  went 
briskly  along  the  drive. 

Half  an  hour  later  Manning  saw  the  trap  come 
out  through  a  gate  of  the  driving  park  and  stop, 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD  203 

that  his  own  street-car  might  pass.  He  had  recog 
nized  Beatrice  at  once,  in  spite  of  the  white  veil  over 
her  face ;  and  though  he  had  never  himself  driven,  he 
knew  that  it  was  a  sure  and  practised  hand  which 
drew  up  the  nervous  black  mare.  With  who  the 
other  young  woman  might  be,  he  did  not  concern 
himself.  The  car  passed  the  crossing  and  the  trap 
kept  on  up  the  street  in  the  direction  of  the  speed 
way  outside  the  city. 

Manning,  looking  after  it,  had  his  attention  diverted 
by  the  voice  of  an  old  woman  who  sat  across  from  him. 
She  had  already  asked  him  a  number  of  times  where 
she  should  stop  in  order  to  reach  a  certain  corner,  and 
though  he  had  promised  to  let  her  know  when  it 
should  be  time  for  her  to  get  out,  she  was  not  to  be 
quieted,  and  had  to  be  reassured  once  again.  He 
had  known  her  for  the  woman  whose  cottage  had 
burned  and  whom  he  had  last  seen  wrapped  in  a 
white  counterpane,  wild-eyed,  muttering,  and  forlorn. 
She  had  not  seemed  to  him  then  to  be  altogether  in 
her  right  mind,  and  at  present  she  impressed  him  as 
even  less  sane.  Evidently  she  was  under  some  intense 
excitement,  but  he  had  other  matters  for  concern 
than  to  speculate  as  to  what  was  further  disturbing 
her  already  disturbed  brain.  He  still  felt  the  effects 
of  the  drug  which  had  been  given  him  at  Mrs.  Hal- 
loran's  restaurant  the  day  before,  and  his  head  and 
body  ached  from  the  blows  and  trampling  of  many  feet. 


204  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

The  cut  upon  his  forehead  had  been  sewed  and  was  cov 
ered  with  plaster,  and  the  left  hand,  which  the  Greek's 
knife  and  the  bullet  had  mutilated,  was  bandaged. 
Both  caused  him  not  a  little  pain.  He  was  aware,  too, 
that  he  presented  a  sorry  spectacle,  with  his  face 
drawn  and  more  pale  than  usual,  the  plastered  forehead, 
and  the  wrapped  hand.  His  appearance  might  easily 
have  lent  corroboration  to  the  report  which  had  been 
spread  in  some  of  the  public  prints,  that  he  had  been 
drunk  at  the  time  of  the  fight  in  the  yards.  And 
apart  from  his  physical  condition,  which  was,  in  point 
of  fact,  such  as  to  make  him  hardly  fit  to  be  in  motion, 
he  had  behind  him  ignominious  and  complete  failure, 
before  him  the  necessity  for  planning  his  immediate 
future.  What  it  was  to  be,  he  was  more  than  uncer 
tain.  The  chance  was  excellent  that  he  would  now 
be  blacklisted  over  the  entire  country,  and  so  kept 
from  getting  the  work  to  which  he  had  been  trained,  — 
unless  indeed  he  should  go  away  and  change  his  name, 
as  a  large  number  of  the  other  Staunton  men  would 
doubtless  do.  He  was  prepared  to  go  away,  —  that 
was  inevitable,  but  he  was  not  a  criminal  to  be  as 
suming  names  other  than  the  one  which  he  had  always 
creditably  borne$  and  he  had  made  the  definite  determi 
nation  not  to  be  driven  into  any  such  course,  to  what 
ever  other  extremities  he  should  be  brought.  That 
these  extremities  might  well  be  desperate,  he  had  seen 
too  much  of  conditions  in  his  own  class  not  to  fully 


CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WORLD  205 

know.  He  was  now  on  his  way  to  make  arrange 
ments  for  leaving  the  neighborhood  within  the  next 
few  days,  since  the  violence  of  the  morning  before  had 
destroyed  the  last  chance  for  gaining  public  sympathy, 
or  inducing  the  new  men  to  relinquish  their  positions. 
The  work  of  the  advisory  committee  was  at  an  end, 
and  it  had  accomplished  absolutely  nothing. 

The  sickening  after  effects  of  the  drug,  the  aching 
head  and  body,  the  throbbing  of  the  cut  above  his 
temple,  and  the  hurt  of  the  bullet  wound  were  nothing 
to  the  dead,  heavy  sense  of  failure  ;  defeat  in  every 
thing  at  the  outset  ;  the  whole  of  his  youth  made 
worthless,  a  disheartening  memory ;  his  future  very 
probably  ruined,  holding  nothing  but  dreary  work 
until,  at  fifty,  he  would  be  in  the  eyes  of  employers 
who  would  no  longer  want  him  an  old  man  past  his 
industrial  worth. 

With  his  usual  faculty  for  keeping  several  things 
upon  his  mind  at  once,  he  remembered  to  have  the  car 
stopped  when  it  came  to  the  place  at  which  Mrs. 
Dome  wished  to  get  off.  He  saw  her  walk  away,  and 
it  occurred  to  him  that  she  was  going  in  the  general 
direction  of  the  Tennant  house,  the  roof  of  which  he 
could  just  make  out  above  the  tree-tops. 

When  he  had  finished  what  he  had  to  attend  to 
in  the  lower  part  of  town,  and  had  made  arrange 
ments  to  leave  for  another  state  two  days  later  on, 
he  took  the  car  again,  with  the  intention  of  going 


206  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

back  to  Staunton  ;  but  as  he  neared  the  corner  where 
Mrs.  Dome  had  got  out  an  hour  before,  there  came 
to  him  the  wish  to  see  Beatrice's  house,  at  the  least, 
and  possibly  to  catch  a  passing  glimpse  of  herself  as 
a  memory  to  be  carried  off  with  him  into  the  new 
and  little  hopeful  life  he  was  facing.  He  was  hardly 
fit  to  walk,  every  movement  being  an  exertion  and  a 
throb  of  pain,  but  it  was  not  far  to  the  Tennant  place 
and  he  could  reach  another  line  of  cars  again  some 
squares  beyond  it.  If  Beatrice  were  not  already  at 
home,  she  must,  he  counted  upon  it,  return  very  soon, 
as  it  was  already  twilight,  and  he  might  see  her  as 
she  should  drive  into  the  grounds. 

She  was  not,  however,  in  sight  upon  the  wide 
street.  He  felt  a  bitter  disappointment,  one  which 
he  knew  to  be  childish  and  unreasonable,  since  no 
possible  change  in  anything  as  it  now  was  could 
result  from  his  merely  having  a  passing  glimpse  of 
her.  Yet  he  felt  not  only  sick  in  body,  but  sick  at 
heart  as  well,  with  the  thought  of  going  away  from 
what  had  been  always  his  home,  the  only  neighbor 
hood  he  had  known, —  going  away  to  a  miserable  un 
certainty,  and  to  where  he  would  in  all  likelihood 
never  see  again  this  young  girl,  the  hearing  of 
whose  voice,  the  look  of  whose  quiet  brown  eyes,  the 
casual  touch  of  whose  slender  fingers,  had  made  for 
him  the  best  in  his  life  through  his  manhood's  five 
years. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  207 

He  went  a  little  way  beyond  the  house,  then 
turned  and  walked  back  to  pass  it  again.  The  shad 
ows  under  the  trees  were  heavy,  and  the  twilight 
was  falling.  Until  he  was  almost  face  to  face  with 
another  man  who  was  approaching  at  a  quick  swing 
ing  pace  from  the  opposite  direction,  he  did  not 
realize  that  it  was  Tennant.  Tennant  gave  him  a 
quick  glance,  without  any  sign  of  having  recognized 
him,  but  after  a  few  steps  turned  his  head  and 
looked  again.  Manning  did  not  see  this.  He  reached 
the  corner  of  the  square  and  turned  back  with  the 
intention  of  passing  the  gate  once  again,  then  — 
whether  he  should  have  seen  Beatrice  or  not  —  keep 
ing  on  to  the  street-car  line.  He  noticed  that 
Tennant  had  stopped  by  some  shrubbery  and  was 
bending  over,  scratching  the  earth  of  a  flower-bed 
with  the  ferrule  of  his  cane.  But  Beatrice  was  no 
where  visible.  He  quickened  his  walk  and  went  on. 
It  seemed  to  him,  when  he  had  gone  some  dis 
tance,  past  magnificent  houses  and  beautiful  gardens 
in  full  spring  green,  that  he  heard  the  reports  of 
a  pistol  fired  quickly  four  times.  He  stopped  and 
looked  back.  But  the  street  remained  quiet  and, 
at  the  moment,  deserted,  and  he  came  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  he  felt  unequal  to  retracing  his  steps  for 
the  satisfaction  of  a  not  very  keen  desire  to  know 
what  had  happened.  If  some  one  had  been  shot,  he 
would  hear  of  it  the  next  day.  In  the  meanwhile 


208  CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WOULD 

the  night  was  coming,  and  he  wished  to  get  back  to 

Stauntou. 

******* 
Beatrice  Tennaiit,    alone   in   her   trap,  drove  up  to 

the  steps  of  the  house  and  found  her  own  coachman 
waiting  for  her.  Even  in  the  failing  light  it  seemed 
to  her  that  his  face  was  scared  and  excited. 

Had  anything  happened  ?  she  asked  at  once,  feel 
ing  a  sudden,  unreasonable  nervousness  herself.  "  Your 
father,  Miss  Tennant,"  he  said  in  a  muffled  voice. 
"  Don't  be  frightened.  Only  the  doctor's  been  sent 
for;  he  is  hurt." 

Beatrice  was  upon  the  ground.  "  Hurt  ? "  she 
questioned  hurriedly. 

"  Shot,  miss,"  answered  the  coachman,  the  excite 
ment  and  love  of  spreading  it  getting  the  better  of 
his  intention  to  remain  ambiguous.  "  Shot  twice 
through  his  body  by  one  of  them  strikers,  he  says  — 
by  that  fellow  Manning." 

Beatrice  hardly  heard  it  as  she  passed  the  maid 
who  had  come  to  the  door  to  meet  her,  and,  having 
been  told  that  her  father  was  in  his  own  room,  hur 
ried  running  up  the  stairs.  She  felt  painfully  the 
sudden  loneliness  of  the  great,  gorgeous  house,  blaz 
ing  with  lights.  If  Evelyn  Woolmer  had  not  come 
—  if  she  herself  had  done  that  which  she  had  in 
tended  to  do,  and  gone  down  to  her  father's  office 
to  drive  him  home !  As  she  reached  the  landing 
and  went  swiftly  down  the  hall  to  the  room,  —  about 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  209 

whose  open  door  a  group  of  servants  clustered,  and 
from  which  seemed  to  come  out  only  a  silence  which 
could  be  felt,  —  the  coachman's  words  came  back  to 
her  as  if  she  had  just  heard  them,  in  the  manner  that 
words  sometimes  will,  a  perceptible  length  of  time 
after  the  sound  of  them  has  ceased.  "  Shot  twice  — 
by  one  of  the  strikers  —  by  that  fellow  Manning." 
She  did  not  believe  it.  There  was  some  mistake. 

But  she  had  reached  the  door.  Her  father,  still  in 
his  gray  business  suit,  but  covered  from  below  the  arms, 
was  lying  upon  a  couch  in  the  bay-window.  Only  his 
man  and  her  own  maid  were  with  him,  standing  aim 
lessly,  waiting  and  looking  at  him. 

Whatever  Beatrice  had  expected,  it  was  surely  not 
to  be  met  with  a  smile  and  an  almost  casual  "  I  told 
them  to  be  careful  not  to  frighten  you  —  but  they  seem 
to  have  done  it."  Except  that  his  face  was  blue  and 
damp,  and  that  his  eyes  showed  mortal  pain  and  the 
coming  of  death,  he  might  have  lain  himself  on  the 
lounge  to  rest  after  a  busy  day.  If  there  was  any 
bleeding,  the  signs  were  hidden  by  the  gay  Italian 
blanket  which  had  been  put  over  him. 

As  she  bent  down  to  him  with  a  question  on  her  lips, 
his  look  turned  to  some  one  behind  her,  and  he  smiled 
again.  "I  am  sorry  I  have  had  to  trouble  you, 
doctor,"  he  said.  "Another  bullet  or  a  higher  aim 
might  have  kept  it  from  being  pressing.  But  the 
results  of  firing  low  are  apt  to  be  slow,  I  believe." 


210  CAPTAINS    OF    THE    WORLD 

The  surgeon  ]aid  his  hand  upon  Beatrice's  shoulder 
and  put  her  gently  aside.  He  lifted  the  silk  blanket. 
"  Perhaps  —  "  he  turned  to  Beatrice  —  "  perhaps  it 
would  be  as  well  for  you  to  come  back  a  little  later.  I 
can  send  for  you  if  you  are  needed.  There  will  be 
one  of  my  colleagues  here  within  a  few  minutes  —  and 
a  nurse." 

She  accepted  the  dismissal  and  went  obediently 
away.  As  she  reached  the  hall  she  caught  Manning's 
name  in  her  father's  steadied  voice.  She  stopped  and 
listened  deliberately.  "  I  have  already  had  the  police 
notified,"  she  heard.  "  But  I  may  as  well  tell  you,  too, 
that  I  met  him  loafing  around  the  outside  of  the 
grounds,  and  within  a  couple  of  minutes  afterward, 
while  I  was  looking  at  one  of  the  flower-beds,  I  was 
shot  by  some  one  hidden  in  the  shrubbery.  Two  of 
the  shots  must  have  gone  wild  ;  but  I  fell,  unfortunately, 
and  by  the  time  the  servants  came  there  was  no  one 
near." 

The  second  surgeon  was  hastening  down  the  hall 
under  the  guidance  of  the  footman.  He  spoke  to  her, 
passed  in,  and  shut  the  door. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

.  .  .  et  pour  ces  messieurs  dont  il  est  question,  je  connais  leurs 
families  and  leurs  biens,  et  je  veux  resolument  que  vous  vous  dis- 
posiez  k  les  recevoir  pour  maris. 

.  .  .  and  as  for  these  gentlemen  whom  we  are  discussing  I  know 
their  families  and  their  properties,  and  I  intend  that  you  shall 
prepare  yourselves  to  take  them  as  your  husbands. 

—  MOLIERE.     Les  Precieuses  Ridicules. 

WITH  a  final  warning  against  allowing  her  father  to 
be  subjected  to  the  least  excitement,  the  surgeon  held 
open  the  door  of  Beatrice's  sitting-room  and  allowed 
her  to  pass  out.  Then  he  went  back  to  sit  by  the  fire, 
which  in  spite  of  the  mildness  of  the  night  she  had  had 
lighted,  and  to  rest  during  the  ten  minutes  which  he  had 
given  her  to  remain  with  Tennant. 

Beatrice  went  down  the  long,  wide  hall,  the  soft  stuff 
of  her  dressing  robe  making  no  sound,  her  footsteps 
muffled  by  the  thick  carpet.  It  was  almost  midnight. 
None  of  the  servants  were  in  sight.  Only  one  light 
burned  in  the  hall.  There  was  a  strong,  suggestive 
odor  of  anaesthetics  and  disinfectants.  The  loneliness  of 
the  great,  deserted  house,  with  all  its  many  chill,  un 
entered,  unoccupied  apartments,  her  own  loneliness  in 
the  midst  of  it,  came  over  her  more  than  ever  before. 

211 


212  CAPTAINS    OF    THE   WORLD 

There  had  been  no  one  to  help  her  stand  firm  under 
that  which  the  surgeon  had  just  told  her  —  with  a 
practised  kindliness  which  made  her  realize  drearily  the 
number  of  times  he  must  have  told  it  to  others  before. 
She  had  had  to  face  it  alone,  as  best  she  could,  with  no 
human  being  to  whom  she  might  turn,  who  might  give 
her  a  steadying  touch  of  the  hand.  That  she  had 
not  outwardly  faced  it  with  discredit  to  her  courage, 
she  knew.  The  surgeon  had  commended  her  calmness 
and  good  sense.  Reassured  by  it,  he  had  told  her  that 
she  might,  for  a  very  few  minutes,  go  to  her  father, 
who  was  insisting  upon  seeing  her. 

Tennant's  room  was  hardly  more  light  than  the  hall 
way.  Only  one  nurse  remained  in  it,  putting  in  order 
the  bandages  and  appliances  which  the  surgeons  had 
used.  Tennant  himself  was  lying  in  the  bed,  his  face 
no  longer  gray-blue  and  pain-drawn  as  it  had  been  a 
half-dozen  hours  before  when  she  had  seen  him  last, 
but  bloodlessly  white,  damp  and  relaxed  with  weakness. 

As  Beatrice  took  the  chair  by  his  side  he  turned  his 
head  slightly  toward  her.  She  saw  that  he  tried  to 
speak  once  or  twice  before  he  could  bring  his  voice  to 
be  heard.  When  he  did,  it  was  hardly  more  than  a 
whisper. 

"  They  have  told  you  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling  with  un 
steady  lips. 

She  laid  her  hand  softly  upon  his  head.  "  They  have 
told  me  that  there  is  hope  yet,"  she  answered.  She 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  213 

knew  from  the  surgeon  that  he  had  asked  for  the 
truth,  and  had  been  allowed  to  hear  it. 

"  We  both  know  what  that  means,"  he  said,  as 
indifferently  as  if  it  had  been  some  impersonal  matter 
he  referred  to  and  not  his  own  near-coming  death. 
His  eyes  went  toward  the  nurse. 

"  Send  her  out,"  he  said,  with  his  usual  disregard 
for  appearances  of  courtesy  toward  those  whom  he 
hired.  The  nurse's  trained  ears  heard  before  Bea 
trice  could  put  the  order  into  less  objectionable  words, 
and  she  left  them  alone  together. 

Tennant  did  not  speak  at  once.  He  was  either 
choosing  his  words  or  gathering  strength.  Beatrice 
bent  her  head  nearer,  to  lose  no  sound,  and  put  him  to 
no  avoidable  effort. 

When  she  sat  back  again  she  drew  her  hand  from 
his  forehead  instinctively,  almost  unconscious  that  she 
did  so.  The  new  affection  for  him  which  had  risen  in 
her  as  he  lay  weak  and  dying  had  left  her  irrevocably. 
He  had  asked  her  to  promise  that  she  would  marry 
Valeric  as  soon  as  possible  after  he  himself  should  be 
gone ;  but  she  could  not  help  knowing  it  not  to  have 
been  a  wish  to  have  the  certainty  that  when  he  should 
leave  her  she  would  pass  to  the  care  and  protection  of 
a  husband.  It  was  that  he  —  who  had  begun  life  the 
nameless  child  of  a  woman  of  the  slums  —  should  die 
the  father  of  a  daughter  who  would  soon  be  known  as 
a  princess.  It  was  of  himself,  not  of  her,  that  he  was 


214  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

thinking  in  this  last  few  hours  —  and  perhaps,  too,  she 
could  not  avoid  the  suspicion,  a  wish  to  thwart  the 
man  who,  though  a  subordinate,  had  held  and  expressed 
opinions  opposed  to  his  own,  had  taken  the  mental 
attitude  of  a  superior  who  disapproves  —  John  Durran. 

He  was  watching  her,  waiting  for  her  reply.  "  It  is 
my  dying  request,  perhaps,  Beatrice,"  he  added,  not 
scrupling  to  resort  to  that  form  of  coercion  which  it 
would  be  impossible  for  her  to  stand  against. 

It  occurred  to  her  to  wonder  whether,  if  she  were 
to  refuse,  he  would  be  above  holding  over  her  threats 
of  a  financial  nature.  Yet  she  did  not  intend  to  refuse. 
The  surgeon  had  warned  her  that  immediate  death 
would  possibly  be  the  consequence  of  allowing  him  to 
become  moved  or  excited.  And  she  would  have  de 
liberately  promised  anything,  regardless  of  intention 
to  keep  her  word,  and  not  have  felt  her  usual  honesty 
lessened.  But  since  the  night  of  the  ball  —  not  yet  a 
week  past  —  when  she  had  stood  beside  Durran  on  the 
balcony,  overlooking  the  city  and  the  steel-plant  towns 
beyond,  and  had  said  that  she  would  marry  Valerio, 
nothing  had  happened  which  had  caused  her  to  change 
her  mind.  This  death-bed  request  upon  the  part  of 
her  father  was  all  she  had  needed  to  give  her  the  excuse 
for  decision. 

She  put  her  hand  back  upon  his  forehead  with  a 
touch  which  was  still  soft  and  gentle,  but  in  which  it 
seemed  to  her  he  must  surely  feel  the  inevitable  lack  of 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  215 

tenderness.  And  she  gave  the  promise  that  he  wished. 
She  watched  the  expression  of  gratified  pride  and  ambi 
tion  that  came  into  his  eyes,  the  gleam  of  triumph  over 
a  world  which  he  had  had  to  meet  with  all  odds  against 
him,  but  in  the  face  of  which  he  could  now,  as  he  left 
it,  flaunt  what  to  him  was  complete  success.  He  smiled 
at  her  and  thanked  her.  But  he  was  not  quite  satisfied 
yet.  He  wished  her  to  send  for  Valerio  in  the  morn 
ing  if  he  should  himself  be  still  alive.  He  saw  her 
hesitate  at  that,  the  blood  coming  hotly  to  her  face. 
"  Or  I  will  send  for  him  —  and  tell  him,"  he  compro 
mised.  It  had,  to  his  mind,  the  advantage  of  being 
the  more  sure  method.  She  obliged  herself  to  consent. 
She  looked  at  the  watch  by  his  bedside  table.  There 
remained  still  four  minutes  of  the  allotted  ten.  She 
felt  herself  grow  cold  with  the  resolution  she  took ;  her 
heart  stopped  for  an  instant,  then,  as  she  began  to 
speak,  beat  with  a  violence  which  made  her  breathless 
and  hesitating.  She  bent  over  him  again,  resting  her 
hand  very  lightly  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Now  that  I  have  promised  this  for  you,  father,"  she 
said,  "  will  you  promise  something  for  me  ?  "  He  asked 
what  it  was,  but  delayed  committing  himself  before 
hand.  She  referred  to  what  she  had  heard  him  say  to 
the  doctor  concerning  Manning's  having  been  the  one 
who  had  shot  him. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  his  mouth  setting,  "he  is  in 
jail  now."  She  dared  not  lift  her  hand  from  his  shoul- 


216  CAPTAINS   OP  THE  WOELD 

der,  but  she  hoped  he  might  not  feel  through  the  cover 
ings  that  it  trembled.  She  knew  the  dangerous  risk 
she  was  taking.  No  subject  would  so  surely  excite  and 
anger  him.  But  it  was  the  chance  of  imperilling  one 
life — which  would  go  a  little  sooner  or  later  in  any 
case  —  to  perhaps  save  one  which  had  probably  long  to 
continue,  and  which  was,  moreover,  that  of  a  man  whom 
she  knew  with  absolute  conviction  to  be  innocent  of 
this  crime,  imputed  to  him  far  more  in  a  spirit  of  vin- 
dictiveness  than  of  certainty.  All  through  the  hours 
since  sunset,  while  she  had  sat  in  her  own  room  waiting 
to  hear  the  final  report  from  the  surgeons,  she  had 
argued  with  herself  for  and  against  the  taking  of  this 
step,  and  in  the  end  she  had  seen  it  as  her  undoubted 
duty.  Unless  she  were  to  do  so,  a  guiltless  man  might 
go  to  his  death,  when  it  would  have  lain  in  her  power 
to  save  him. 

"  But  I'm  certain  that  it  is  a  mistake,  father  —  "  she 
tried  to  keep  it  soothing  and  not  argumentative. 
"  There  must  have  been  some  one  else  hidden  in  the 
shrubbery,  waiting  for  you."  The  head  on  the  pillow 
moved  in  a  stubborn  negative.  "Yet,  father,"  she 
insisted  gently,  "  I  know  Neil  well,  much  better  than 
you  do —  you  only  remember  him  as  a  boy.  You 
have  never  spoken  to  him  since,  I  think.  Will  you  not 
take  my  word  for  it  that  he  could  never,  under  any 
provocation,  have  done  such  a  thing  as  this  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said  briefly.    She  sat  helpless.     "Why  —  " 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD  217 

asked  Tennant,  his  voice  gaining  with  the  strength  of 
his  determination  to  punish  —  "  why  else  should  he  have 
been  hanging  around  this  house  in  the  dusk  ?  It  was 
not  on  his  way  to  Staunton.  The  men  never  come  into 
this  section." 

She  nerved  herself  to  the  final  pitch.  If  only  the 
giving  of  a  reason  for  the  certainly  damning  appear 
ance  that  lay  in  his  presence  in  the  neighborhood,  if 
only  that  could  perhaps  serve  to  save  him,  then  she 
would  give  it. 

"  He  is  going  away,"  she  answered,  "  and  he  may 
have  hoped  he  might  see  me  for  a  moment,  even  in  the 
distance." 

"  Yes  ?  "  queried  Tennant,  coolly.  "  May  I  ask  — 
why  ?"  Beatrice  told  him  in  the  fewest  possible 
words. 

The  silence  —  in  which  the  ticking  of  the  watch  on 
the  bedside  table  was  sharp  and  quick  —  seemed  to  last 
through  an  unending  time. 

Her  father's  eyes,  coldly  contemptuous,  were  on  her 
own.  She  met  them  unwaveringly. 

The  nurse  came  softly  in  and  stood  by  the  bedside. 
The  ten  moments  which  the  doctor  had  permitted  were 
past.  Beatrice  rose  and  put  out  her  hand  to  touch  her 
father's  forehead  once  again.  He  moved  his  head 
away.  Her  arm  fell  back  at  her  side  and  she  bit  her 
lip  at  the  hurt.  She  felt  the  impulse  to  leave  him  with 
out  a  further  word,  as  no  filial  habit  could  keep  her 


218  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

from  thinking  that  he  would  have  deserved  ;  but  she 
had  more  than  herself  and  her  own  pride  to  consider. 

"If  you  think  the  reason  I  have  had  to  give  you 
a  good  enough  one  will  you  say  that  you  have  had 
cause  to  know  that  you  were  mistaken  ?  "  He  did  not 
answer.  The  nurse  glanced  at  the  watch  suggestively. 
Beatrice  had  no  choice  but  to  turn  and  go. 

The  surgeon  stood  up  at  her  entrance  into  her  sit 
ting-room  and  looked  inquiringly  into  her  face.  That 
which,  in  spite  of  her,  he  evidently  saw  there,  made 
him  ask  quickly,  "  There  has  been  nothing  to  disturb 
Mr.  Tennant,  has  there  ? "  —  "I  am  afraid  there  has," 
she  answered,  moving  to  the  table  and  resting  her  hand 
against  it.  "  I  tried  to  prevent  it,  but  I  had  something 
to  say  to  him  which  I  could  not  avoid.  I  am  sorry ; 
but  I  don't  think  there  has  been  any  harm  done.  He 
was  only  angry  and  silent  —  not  excited." 

Plainly  not  satisfied,  the  surgeon  left  her  at  once  to 
go  back  to  Tennant,  advising  her  to  get  some  rest,  and 
promising  to  call  her  should  the  need  arise.  "  It  is  still 
possible  that  he  may  recover,  you  know,"  he  repeated. 
"  Or  he  may  live  on  for  days.  Nothing  can  be  helped 
by  worrying,  in  any  case." 

After  sitting  in  front  of  the  grate  a  little  time, 
she  left  her  chair  and  went  to  her  bedroom.  For  a 
while  she  lay  awake,  then,  her  brain  tired  and  restless, 
she  slept  fitfully  and  uneasily,  with  wide-eyed  inter 
vals,  listening  for  a  summons  to  her  father's  bedside, 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD  219 

and  thinking  over  what  would  be  her  course  were  her 
father  to  die  without  exonerating  Neil  Manning.  She 
could  see  only  one  that  was  in  justice  possible  — that  she 
should  give,  in  court  if  necessary,  the  reason  for  his 
presence  near  this  house.  He  himself  would  never 
give  it.  He  would  let  his  life  go  she  believed  ;  but  he 
would  shield  her  name  from  that  publicity. 

No  call  to  her  father's  room  came,  and  when  not 
long  after  daylight  she  rang  for  her  maid,  she  was  told 
that  there  was  no  change  for  either  the  better  or  the 
worse.  One  surgeon  had  temporarily  gone,  and  the 
other  had  returned.  She  sent  to  ask  if  she  might  not 
be  with  her  father.  But  whether  it  were  himself  or 
the  doctor  who  did  not  want  her,  the  answer  was  in  the 
negative.  Her  breakfast  was  brought  to  her,  and  she 
ate  it.  She  sank  down  into  her  usual  place  in  the 
window-seat  to  read  the  letters  which  came  in  the  early 
mail.  There  was  amongst  them  a  note  from  Valeric, 
expressing  his  sympathy  and  offering  his  services.  He 
had,  as  she  knew,  come  to  the  house  the  night  before 
and  made  inquiries.  She  had  not  seen  him,  though 
when  Durran  had  also  come,  she  had  had  him  brought 
up  to  her  here. 

She  wondered  now  if  her  father  yet  intended  to  send 
for  Valerio,  and  her  face  grew  hot  again  at  the  thought. 
Valeric  would  read  so  infallibly  the  motive  actuating 
it  all. 

It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock,  and  she  was  still  sitting  in 


220  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

the  window,  when  one  of  the  maids  came  to  say  that 
she  was  wanted  at  once  in  her  father's  room.  She  did 
not  stop  to  coil  up  the  heavy,  loose  braid  of  hair  which 
fell  below  her  waist.  And  supposing  that  her  father 
must  be  sinking,  she  did  not  so  much  as  remember  that 
she  was  still  in  her  bedroom  gown. 

The  nurse  met  her  outside  the  door  and  let  her  pass 
in.  For  the  first  instant  she  took  the  man  who  stood 
at  the  bedside  to  be  the  surgeon.  Then  she  realized 
that  it  was  Valerio.  Conscious  that  she  had  been 
played  and  caught,  conscious  of  her  morning  robe,  of 
her  bared  neck,  and  the  hair  which  fell  almost  loose, 
she  stopped,  flushing,  her  lips  apart  as  if  with  a  checked 
exclamation  of  protest. 

Valerio  turned  toward  her.  If  he  saw  the  awkward 
ness  of  the  situation  in  which  they  had  both  been  pur 
posely  placed,  if  he  saw  that  Beatrice's  gown  was  one 
in  which  she  would  have  preferred  not  to  present  her 
self  before  him,  if  he  noticed  that  she  was  blushing, 
confused,  and  angry,  there  was  not  the  least  sign  of  it 
in  his  manner.  He  put  out  his  hand  and  spoke  to  her 
kindly  —  a  little  more  than  that,  affectionately.  She 
knew  that  her  father  had  told  him,  and  knew  that  he 
would  make  it  all  as  easy  for  her  as  lay  in  his  power. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

It  was  from  of  old  said,  "  The  loser  pays." —  CARLYLE.    French 

Revolution. 

THE  smoke  from  the  mills  had  settled  down  over 
Staunton  again,  but  not  tranquillity.  Apart  from  the 
high  running  excitement  over  the  shooting  of  Tennant, 
the  arrest  of  Manning,  and  of  a  number  of  men 
charged  with  having  been  prominent  at  the  fight  in 
the  yards,  there  was  also  an  aftermath  of  the  whole 
affair  in  the  funerals  of  those  who  had  been  killed. 

Several  had  already  taken  place  during  this  morning 
—  the  third  since  that  of  the  one  upon  which  they  had 
come  to  their  deaths.  And  at  least  one  remained  in 
prospect.  For  Clement  had  succumbed  to  his  injuries. 
His  case  had  been  made  more  than  commonly  interest 
ing  by  the  fact  that  since  the  last  breath  had  left  the 
body  over  which  Laura  Halloran  had  hung  to  the  end, 
the  girl  had  tried  twice  to  kill  herself. 

Farraday  had  been  buried,  and  Nettie  could  not  but 
feel  the  importance  the  funeral  had  given  her.  Mr. 
Lester  had  paid  her  a  visit  and  had  told  her  that  she 
and  the  children  would  be  provided  for.  He  had  not, 
however,  conducted  the  burial  service,  for  Farraday  had 

221 


222  CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD 

been  laid  in  his  grave  by  a  priest  of  his  own  church. 
Most  of  the  neighbors  had  made  visits  of  sympathy. 
All  this  had  distracted  Nettie's  mind  from  even  such 
not  very  intense  grief  as  a  training  making  for  imper 
turbability  under  either  the  giving  or  taking  away  of 
life  would  have  let  her  feel.  At  the  best  childhood, 
being  without  actual  conception  of  future  or  past,  if 
left  to  itself,  does  not  take  greatly  to  heart  the  death 
even  of  some  one  to  whom  it  has  been  really  attached. 
And  Nettie's  childhood  had  never  been  at  the  best. 
As  she  had  known  it,  births  were  inevitable  but  unde- 
sired,  and  deaths  were  merely  much  the  same.  Both 
births  and  deaths  took  money ;  but  the  latter  furnished 
a  somewhat  compensating  excitement  and  importance. 
You  watched  a  funeral,  even  followed  it ;  but  you 
ignored  yet  another  new  baby  on  the  street. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Nettie  was  more  really  unhappy 
about  other  things  than  she  was  about  the  end  of  her 
father.  Primarily  the  baby  was  ailing.  She  was 
afraid  it  had  caught  cold  upon  the  day  of  the  fight. 
This  worried  her  more  than  a  little.  And  Neil  was  in 
jail. 

These  two  matters  she  spoke  of  to  Mrs.  Dome.  The 
old  woman  had  for  the  past  couple  of  days  wandered 
the  streets  of  Staunton  muttering  and  gesticulating. 
To-day  she  seemed  more  unmistakably  crazy  still. 
She  came  up  to  where  Nettie  sat  on  the  tenement  steps, 
holding  the  baby  in  her  arms,  and  rocking  her  body 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  223 

back  and  forth  automatically  by  way  of  soothing  it. 
It  was  burning  with  fever,  as  its  flushed  face  and  the 
dry  brightness  of  the  usually  dull  eyes  might  at  once 
have  told  any  one  of  more  experience  than  Nettie,  or 
less  unsettled  brain  than  Mrs.  Dome. 

"  I  think  she's  sick,"  observed  Nettie,  speculatively. 
"  She  cries  like  that  all  the  time." 

Mrs.  Dome  offered  advice  which  Nettie  determined 
to  follow  if  the  twenty-five  cents  necessary  for  the 
purchase  of  the  soothing  potion  recommended  could  in 
anyway  be  obtained.  Mrs.  Dome  had  used  it  upon 
her  own  children.  That  but  one  of  six  of  these  had 
survived  to  maturity  was  a  fact  which  Nettie  neither 
knew,  nor,  having  known,  would  have  drawn  deduc 
tions  from. 

Nettie  voiced  her  speculations  as  to  who  would  be 
likely  to  furnish  the  quarter  of  a  dollar.  "  There  was 
Neil  would  give  it,"  she  affirmed ;  "  but  they  pinched 
him  last  night."  "Say  !"  she  looked  back  into  Mrs. 
Dome's  face  with  a  suddenness  which  was  without 
intent  but  which  made  the  old  creature  start  wildly, 
"  I  don't  believe  he  done  it,  do  you  ? "  She  had 
made  the  same  assertion  and  asked  the  same  question 
many  times  already  during  the  day.  Mrs.  Dome, 
whose  few  remaining  wits  the  abruptness  had  scat 
tered,  stared  at  her  blankly.  Nettie  looked  at  her 
puzzled. 

"Neil  —  my  cousin — Manning,"  she  explained,  "him 


224  CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD 

what's  been  bossing  everything.  Don't  you  know  they 
run  him  in  last  night  because  they  think  he's  the  feller 
that  shot  old  Tennant  ?  "  Nettie's  voice  went  with  a 
rising  inflection  of  impatience  at  a  stupidity  which 
ignored  the  one  supremely  important  fact  of  the  hour. 

Mrs.  Dome  continued  the  blank  and  vacant  stare. 
For  a  few  moments  it  seemed  that  if  the  words  had 
gone  into  her  ears,  they  had  been  without  effect  on  her 
brain.  To  an  extent  it  was  the  case.  She  had  never 
known  Manning ;  and  though  she  had  heard  his  name, 
it  had  been  only  during  these  last  few  weeks  when  she 
was  too  taken  up  with  her  own  troubles  for  it  to  make 
any  impression  upon  her.  If  she  had  been  directly 
asked  now,  she  would  have  had  no  least  idea  who  Man 
ning  was.  But  Tennant's  name  penetrated  through 
her  mental  cloudiness,  and  the  light  it  made  began 
gradually  to  show  forth  in  her  little  eyes,  growing 
abruptly  to  an  expression  of  pleased,  self-satisfied 
cunning.  She  laid  her  hand  on  Nettie's  knee,  and 
approached  her  face  more  closely.  "  I  done  it  —  I  shot 
old  Tennant,"  she  said  triumphantly  in  a  loud  whisper. 
Then  she  drew  back  to  note  the  effect  of  her  words. 
It  was  not  what  she  wanted,  for  it  was  Nettie  now 
whose  look  was  blank.  It  was  the  third  or  fourth 
time  since  the  evening  before  that  Mrs.  Dome  had 
found  herself  ignored  when  she  had  confided  the  same 
thing.  Walking  back  to  Staunton  the  evening  before, 
she  had  tried  to  tell  some  one  whom  she  had  met  on 


CAPTAINS  OF   THE  WOELD  225 

the  bridge,  but  had  been  put  off  with  a  derisive  speech. 
And  during  the  morning  no  one  of  those  she  had 
approached  had  paid  the  least  attention  to  her, — two 
even  having  turned  their  backs,  telling  her  with  frank 
ness  that  she  was  crazy,  and  thereby  inciting  the  chil 
dren  of  the  gutters  to  follow  at  a  distance  after  her, 
jeering  her  as  "nutty  "  and  a  "lunatic." 

"/done  it,"  she  repeated,  giving,  by  way  of  empha 
sis,  a  shake  to  the  knee  upon  which  her  hand  still  lay. 

"  O-ah  !  "  said  Nettie,  in  whose  education  respect  for 
elders  had  not  figured,  "get  out!  You're  cracked." 
Mrs.  Dome  was  exasperated. 

"  Cracked,  am  I  ? "  she  demanded,  and  bestowed  a 
term  which  was  not  of  endearment.  "  Well,  I  wasn't 
too  cracked  to  find  out  his  house  and  wait  in  the 
bushes  for  him  to  come  along.  I  wasn't  too  nutty  to 
pump  it  into  him.  If  you  don't  believe  me — "  she 
was  talking  loudly  now — "why,  here's  the  pistol." 
She  began  fumbling  in  a  pocket  among  the  folds  of  her 
black  cotton  skirt.  As  she  did  so  the  vacancy  came  in 
her  eyes  again.  That  she  did  not  find  the  pistol  there 
threw  her  back  into  uncertainty.  Up  to  the  point 
where,  creeping  nearer  and  nearer  to  Tennant  among 
the  snowballs  and  lilacs,  she  had  finally  levelled  the 
revolver  and  pulled  the  trigger,  —  up  to  there  she 
remembered.  Beyond  that  it  was  confusion.  She  did 
not  know  that  she  had  dropped  the  revolver  upon 
the  grass.  She  had  no  more  recollection  of  how  she 
Q 


226  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

had  escaped  than  if  she  had  been  carried  through  the 
air  and  set  down  in  Staunton.  "  I  don't  think  where 
it  is,"  she  said,  giving  up  the  search  in  the  pocket  and 
looking  at  Nettie  appealingly,  disappointed,  and  want 
ing  to  be  helped  out.  "But  I  ain't  cracked,"  she 
insisted  pathetically.  "He  kilt  my  husband  and  my 
son,  and  he  sent  them  to  burn  up  my  house,  — "  she 
mumbled  over  her  woes,  staring  into  the  troublous 
past,  —  "  and  so  I  kilt  him.  It  was  a  good  thing." 

Nettie  had  begun  to  believe  it  at  last.  A  suspicion 
of  the  truth  was  coming  to  her.  She  got  up  and  went 
into  the  tenement. 

When  she  came  out  she  had  left  the  baby  with  a 
friend,  and  she  started  upon  a  breathless  run  for 
Lester's  office. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  clergyman  had  traced  Mrs. 
Dorne  to  where  she  sat  at  the  foot  of  the  hospital  steps 
gazing  out  over  Staunton  and  the  hills  beyond.  He 
had  himself  talked  to  her,  and  by  more  circumspect 
and  humoring  methods  than  Nettie's,  had  gathered  so 
much  sufficiently  coherent  detail  as  to  make  him 
believe  that  Mrs.  Dome's  self-accusations  were  not  the 
imaginings  of  an  irresponsible  brain,  but  the  truth. 
And  before  the  blowing  of  the  five  o'clock  whistle  the 
old  creature  was  no  longer  wandering,  jeered  at  and 
persecuted,  about  the  sidewalks  of  Staunton  ;  she  was 
properly  confined  in  the  city.  And  influence  and  suf 
ficiently  convincing  arguments  and  proofs  having  been 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  227 

brought  to  bear  in  the  proper  quarters,  Manning  was 
set  at  liberty. 

He  went  back  to  the  mill  town  and  to  his  own  room 
at  once,  escaping  as  quickly  as  possible  from  the  ques 
tions  and  congratulations  of  those  whom  he  met  in  the 
streets.  Although  he  had  been  so  soon  released,  and 
practically  cleared  of  suspicion,  he  felt  the  humiliation 
of  having  been  arrested  and  for  almost  twenty-four 
hours  in  the  cell  of  a  jail ;  and  he  disliked  being 
spoken  to  about  it,  being  pointed  out,  and  talked  over 
as  one  who  had  been  accused  of  attempt  to  murder,  and 
held  upon  the  charge.  He  knew  that  however  com 
pletely  he  should  be  exonerated,  it  would  still  be  re 
peated  to  his  discredit  that  he  had  been  apprehended 
and  jailed  as  an  assassin.  Though  it  would  be  proven 
unjust,  it  would  have  a  certain  influence  upon  the 
minds  of  most  who  knew  of  it.  Only  by  an  effort  of 
will  and  reason  would  he  be  able  to  keep  his  eyes  from 
dropping  before  those  of  others.  The  somewhat  over 
weening  self-confidence  which  had  had,  heretofore,  no 
allusion  or  memory  to  shrink  from,  would  never  again 
be  altogether  the  same.  He  had  even  yielded  to  the 
inclination  to  escape  notice  as  he  had  sat  in  the  street 
car,  and  had  held  the  evening  newspaper  before  his 
face.  The  paper  was  largely  taken  up  with  an  ac 
count  of  the  attempted  murder,  and  with  bulletins  of 
Tennant's  condition.  There  were  Tennant's  picture 
and  his  own.  How  he  had  himself  behaved,  ap- 


228  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WOELD 

peared,  and  spoken  were  chronicled  minutely,  and 
not  always  with  attention  to  facts.  He  had  read 
it  all,  and  then,  turning  the  sheet  to  go  on  with 
the  account,  had  seen  a  picture  of  Beatrice  Tennant. 
Underneath  it,  her  engagement  to  the  Prince  Valeric 
was  announced  in  large  black  type.  He  held  the  paper 
before  him  still,  but  it  shook  visibly.  It  was  a  minute 
or  more  before  he  went  on  reading.  The  reporter  had 
spared  no  phraseology  of  romance  as  he  pictured  the 
bedside  scene,  wherein  the  daughter  of  the  stricken 
steel  king  had  plighted  her  troth  to  a  prince,  young, 
handsome,  of  vast  estates  and  famous  name.  It  was 
the  first  that  Manning  had  known  of  Valeric,  the  first 
time  he  had  thought  of  her  as  likely  to  marry  any 
one  save  Durran.  But  now  he  recalled  the  dark, 
broad-shouldered  man,  with  thick  black  hair  and  a 
pointed  black  beard,  who  had  stood  beside  Miss  Ten 
nant  in  the  rug-heaped  hall  where  her  portrait  was 
upon  exhibition.  That,  he  concluded,  had  been  the 
Prince  Valerio. 

When  he  was  in  his  own  room  he  took  the  tin  despatch- 
box  from  the  drawer  of  his  desk  and  got  from  it  the 
little  red  velvet  case  which  held  the  picture  of  Beatrice 
as  a  child.  He  contrasted  it  with  the  one  in  the  paper. 
The  unformed,  meagre  child  with  the  long,  thick  braid 
of  hair,  the  oval  face,  prim  and  demure  before  the 
camera,  had  almost  nothing  in  common  with  the  tall 
young  woman,  above  whose  extremely  low-cut  gown 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  229 

rose  the  thin,  finely  modelled  shoulders  and  the  strong 
neck  which  carried  her  head  so  well.  In  the  tintype 
the  hair  had  evidently  been  wet  and  brushed  straight 
back,  held  tightly  by  a  circular  comb.  In  the  news 
paper  picture  it  was  parted  loosely  and  coiled,  with 
elaboration,  but  keeping  the  outline  of  the  head,  and 
lying  upon  the  neck.  In  the  tintjrpe  she  wore  by  way 
of  ornament  only  one  brooch, — an  affair  of  glass  jewels 
and  gilt  which  he  had  himself,  at  his  mother's  instiga 
tion,  given  her  upon  a  Christmas  day.  In  the  other  he 
could  tell  that  she  must  have  been  covered  with  jewels, — 
in  her  hair,  upon  her  throat  and  arms  and  hands.  It 
was  for  those  jewels  —  for  the  wealth  they  represented 
—  that  she  was  being  taken  by  the  Italian  prince.  He 
had  no  doubt  as  to  that.  His  conviction  was  that  she 
had  loved  Durran,  and  she  was  selling  herself,  under 
some  compulsion,  for  a  title.  That  she  was  doing  it 
through  ambition  and  her  own  will  he  would  not  allow 
himself  to  think.  All  that  he  knew  of  the  bearers  of 
titles  he  had  got  through  the  history  of  his  country  as 
it  had  been  taught  him  in  the  public  schools,  and 
through  the  fanciful  accounts  prepared  by  writers  for 
Sunday  editions  of  the  press.  The  knowledge  was 
such  as  to  make  him  deeply  and  sincerely  sorry  for 
Beatrice.  Of  himself,  he  did  not  now  so  much  as 
think  in  connection  with  it.  The  last  three  days  had 
put  a  great  separation  of  failure  and  humiliation  be 
tween  the  self-relying,  competent  young  workingman, 


230  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

confident  of  his  ability  to  be  what  he  might  choose, 
arrogant  in  his  mental  and  physical  strength,  his  gift 
for  leading  men,  and  the  defeated  agitator,  who  had  been 
disregarded  by  his  own  people,  —  literally  trampled 
under  their  feet,  —  who  stood  accused  and  still  under 
suspicion  of  participation  in  the  firing  of  a  widow's 
home,  of  drunkenness  in  a  critical  moment,  of  attempt 
ing  a  dastardly  murder.  He  was  another  man  from  the 
one  who  had  felt  himself  good  enough  to  speak  when 
he  was  forced  to  do  so,  of  his  love  for  a  woman  whose 
inferior  he  had  held  himself  to  be  only  in  an  artificial 
sense  and  as  any  man  holds  himself  inferior  to  the 
good  woman  whom  he  loves.  Then,  no  one  would 
have  been  justified  in  resenting  his  avowal  of  a  love 
which  asked  no  sort  of  return.  To-day,  were  anything 
approaching  the  same  scene  to  be  enacted,  any  man 
would  have  had  a  good  right  to  knock  him  down  for 
his  impertinence. 

Yet  he  had  not  been  able  to  keep  himself  from 
wishing  for  just  the  bare  assurance  that  Beatrice  had 
not  believed  him  to  have  been  drunk  at  the  fight, 
that  she  had  not  harbored  even  a  momentary  doubt 
as  to  his  innocence  of  the  attempt  upon  her  father's 
life. 

A  faint  sound  by  his  door  made  him  look  in  that 
direction.  The  knob  was  being  moved  cautiously, 
but  he  had  turned  the  key  as  he  had  come  in.  He 
put  the  little  red  velvet  case  back  in  the  tin  box,  laid 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  231 

the  paper  with  the  picture  of  Beatrice  downwards, 
and  went  to  open  the  door.  As  he  unlocked  it,  a 
force  from  the  outside  pushed  it  quickly  ajar ;  a 
woman  had  come  in,  and  closed  and  locked  it  again 
behind  her.  It  was  Mrs.  Kemble. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Quand  un  outrage  est  publique,  une  femme  aime  k  oublier,  elle 
a  des  chances  pour  s'agrandir  .  .  .  mais  les  femmes  n'absolvent 
jamais  des  secrets  offences,  parcequ'elles  n'aiment  ni  les  lachetes, 
ni  les  vertus,  ni  les  amours  secrets. 

When  an  outrage  is  public,  a  woman  likes  to  forget ;  she  has  a 
chance  to  exalt  herself  .  .  .  but  women  never  absolve  secret  of 
fences,  because  they  like  neither  secret  treacheries,  virtues,  nor 

—  BALZAC.    Duchesse  de  Langeas. 

THE  angry  face  into  which  she  looked,  disconcerted 
Mrs.  Kemble  ;  and  the  demand  for  explanation  in  the 
hard  eyes  that  met  hers  made  explanation  difficult. 
A  possessing  desire  to  see  him  had  brought  her  here. 
Now  that  she  was  come,  the  manner  in  which  he  met 
her  was  a  dash  of  cold  water,  making  her  take  in 
her  breath,  bringing  her  back  to  her  senses.  She 
returned  to  flat  reality  as  one  wakes  from  some  intense 
dream  which  has  shaken  and  wrought  upon  one 
physically.  Her  heart  was  still  beating  hard  with 
the  stress,  her  brain  quivering ;  and  it  was  not  now 
by  irresistible  impulse  that  she  raised  her  arms  and 
laid  her  hands  on  his  shoulders.  "Neil!"  she  said, 
and  the  failure  to  give  it  the  ring  of  intense  feeling 
was  sensible,  "  Neil  —  I  happened  to  see  Mr.  Lester. 
He  told  me  ;  and  I  had  to  come.  I  had  to  see  you. 

232 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  233 

I  have  been  wretched  — miserable."  It  was  not  true, 
and  it  had  not  the  note  of  truth.  That  which  she 
had  been  was  not  wretched  and  miserable,  but  restless, 
perturbed,  and  uneasy. 

He  stood  as  he  was,  still  with  her  hands  upon  his 
shoulders,  still  with  his  own  hands  as  they  had  been 
when  she  had  come  in,  the  injured  and  bandaged  one 
thrust  partially  into  his  pocket,  the  other  hanging  at 
his  side.  At  his  most  forbidding  he  had  never  looked 
as  he  did  now,  —  his  whole  expression  changed  by  the 
ordeals  of  the  last  few  days.  A  bruise  was  dark  and 
ugly  over  his  forehead  and  one  side  of  his  face  ;  the  cut 
above  his  temple  was  still  barred  with  surgeon's  plaster. 
He  continued  looking  down  into  her  face  with  an 
anger  which  did  not  trust  itself  to  words.  Even  in 
the  softening  light  of  the  late  afternoon  she  did  not 
bear  such  proximity  well.  The  handsome,  large- 
modelled  features  were  coarse,  the  even-colored  skin 
thick  and  rough  and  porous.  Yet  just  the  perception 
of  the  physical  grossness  and  actuality  which  might 
have  been  the  strongest  moving  power,  the  drawing 
of  like  to  like,  the  gravity  of  nature  to  nature,  acted, 
in  his  present  temper,  not  as  a  drawing  but  as  a  vio 
lently  repelling  force.  The  brute  that  it  stirred  in 
him  now  was  anger.  This  was  all  that  was  needed  to 
complete  his  degradation, — that  he  should  be  forced  into 
relations  with  this  woman  who  was  deliberately  put 
ting  herself  to  do  it,  and  in  a  way  which  rendered 


234  CAPTAINS   OF   THE    WORLD 

as  good  as  certainty  what  had  all  along  been  his  strong 
belief,  that  she  had  been  obtainable  for  others  before 
himself.  The  attempted  compulsion  of  it  infuriated 
him.  If  there  was  to  be  any  calculated,  planned  fol 
lowing  up,  cornering,  compelling,  he  did  not  intend 
to  be  the  object  of  it.  It  was  not  the  normal  situation 
of  the  male,  and  he  revolted  in  anger  against  it. 

And  at  any  moment  the  men  would  probably  begin 
to  come  here  to  see  him.  The  door  was  locked,  to  be 
sure,  and  he  need  not  open  it ;  but  he  did  not  like 
the  situation  of  skulking  behind  it,  not  speaking,  hold 
ing  his  breath  until  they  should  have  turned  away. 
The  woman  who  kept  the  house  knew  that  he  was  in. 
Quite  possibly  Mrs.  Kemble  had  been  seen  coming  up. 

"  Neil  !  "  she  repeated  now,  afraid  of  his  silence, 
of  the  gleam  in  his  eyes,  —  which  was  not  that  before 
brought  there  by  her  nearness,  —  yet  kept  from  real 
timidity  by  the  vanity  which  made  her  believe  that 
he  could  be  won  over.  "  I  know  I  ought  not  to  have 
come.  But  I  had  to  see  you.  I  couldn't  bear  it  any 
longer." 

"  Do  you  know  that  women  don't  come  to  this 
house  ? "  he  said.  The  word  was  a  classification  of 
her,  but  she  was  not  sensitive  with  regard  to  that. 

"Nobody  saw  me,"  she  excused  it.  What  he  had 
felt  all  along,  this  convinced  him  of.  The  force  which 
impelled  her  was  not  one  so  all-controlling  as  to  blind 
her  to  consequences  to  herself. 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE  WOULD  235 

She  tried  to  slip  her  hands  from  his  shoulders  and 
clasp  them  behind  his  neck.  He  put  her  off,  then. 
She  repeated  his  name  in  a  voice  which  tried  to  be 
imploring,  but  only  succeeded  in  being  wheedling. 

"I  wish  you  would  go  away,"  he  told  her  with 
brutal  truthfulness.  "  There  are  likely  to  be  men 
here  at  any  minute." 

How  could  she  go  while  he  was  still  angry  ?  she 
pleaded.  "  You  are  cruel,  Neil.  You  are  breaking  my 
heart." 

He  laughed  curtly,  and  made  a  movement  toward 
the  door  with  some  thought  of  opening  it  and  leav 
ing  it  open,  thereby  forcing  her  to  be  gone.  But 
with  that  common  bravado  of  women  which  is  one  of 
their  most  unworthy  traits,  that  perfect  willingness 
to  take  undue  advantage  of  an  immunity  from  bodily 
harm  granted  them  in  generosity,  she  did  now  that 
which  she  had  done  in  her  own  house,  —  placed  herself 
in  such  a  position  that  he  would  have  had  to  set  her 
aside  by  strength.  He  turned  short  about,  that  he 
might  not  yield  to  a  desperate  temptation  to  throttle 
her,  and  went  over  to  stand  at  one  of  the  windows,  his 
back  to  the  room.  She  noiselessly  slipped  the  key 
from  the  lock  and  put  it  into  her  pocket.  Then  she 
went  forward  to  the  desk  which  was  close  behind  him. 

"  How  can  you  be  so  cruel  to  me  ? "  she  begged, 
addressing  the  massive  shoulders  in  the  most  pathetic 
voice  she  could  bring.  "  I  love  you.  I  would  do  any- 


236  CAPTAINS   OP   THE  WORLD 

thing  for  you.  You  love  me  too,  if  only  you  wouldn't 
stand  out  against  it." 

So  this  was  the  interpretation  she  had  put  upon  his 
leaving  her  defeated  in  the  dark,  musty,  little  parlor 
of  her  own  house  !  This  was  what  accounted  for  her 
having  worked  his  wish  with  her  old  husband,  when 
he  had  expected  nothing  less  than  vengeance  ! 

She  repeated  again  that  she  would  do  anything  for 
him.  He  faced  about,  determining  suddenly  to  try 
another  method  of  ridding  himself  of  her.  And  it 
was  a  test  as  well,  from  which  he  derived  a  kind  of 
grim  amusement. 

Did  she  know,  he  asked,  that  he  was  about  to  leave 
Staunton  and  go  into  the  world,  almost  without  money, 
utterly  without  certainty  of  work,  probably  black 
listed  ?  That  which  he  had  expected,  he  saw.  She 
was  disconcerted  and  she  showed  it  unguardedly. 

Unready  with  an  answer,  she  looked  down  at  the 
desk  and  turned  the  newspaper  over.  The  picture 
of  Beatrice  Tennant  was  there,  but  she  had  already 
seen  it  at  home  and  she  did  not  notice  it  now.  Nor 
did  Manning,  who  was  intent  upon  her  face,  heed 
what  she  was  doing.  She  looked  up  again.  "But 
you  can  get  back  into  the  mills  here,"  she  temporized. 
"  I  am  sure  you  can.  Why  should  you  go  away  ?  You 
may  have  to  stand  turn,  or  be  a  day-laborer,  or  not 
get  any  job  at  all,  most  likely.  You'd  much  better 
stay  here." 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  237 

It  was  as  he  had  thought.  She  was  not  so  in 
cautious  as  to  recklessly  declare  her  willingness  to 
follow  him  anywhere,  through  anything.  What  she 
wanted  was  to  have  him  stay  here,  where  she  might 
have  him  without  discomfort  or  deprivation.  Perhaps 
in  a  moment  of  such  unwonted  self-abandonment  as 
that  in  her  own  house  the  last  time  he  had  seen  her, 
she  might  have  rashly  declared  her  intention  of  fol 
lowing  him  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  through  any 
amount  of  trial,  but  not  now. 

He  turned  back  to  the  window.  She  realized  that 
she  had  not  taken  it  in  a  way  convincing  of  her 
sincerity.  And  she  tried  to  talk  the  bad  impression 
away,  to  bring  him  over,  not,  though,  relinquishing 
her  intention  of  keeping  him  here  at  Staunton.  Con 
scious  that  she  had  made  a  false  move  and  had  put 
herself  upon  the  defensive,  she  grew  more  and  more 
nervous,  and  as  she  had  just  been  fingering  the  news 
paper  on  the  desk,  now  she  fingered  the  handle  of 
the  black  tin  box.  When  he  had  dropped  the  picture 
case  back  into  it,  he  had  merely  closed  it  quickly, 
leaving  it  there  and  then  forgetting  it.  Why  could 
he  not  stay  here  ?  she  pleaded.  "  We  could  be 
happy  here  —  if  you  would  only  let  us  be,  Neil.  Why 
have  we  both  got  to  suffer  because  I  married  an  old 
man  when  I  was  too  young  to  know  what  I  was 
doing?" 

She  had  been  married  to  Kemble  not  half  a  dozen 


238  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

years,  and  a  very  obvious  calculation  was  sufficient 
to  throw  doubt  upon  the  exactness  of  the  plea  of 
youth  and  inexperience.  No  reply  came,  and  she 
could  not  see  his  face  to  note  what  effect  her  words 
were  having.  Her  eyes  fell  to  the  black  tin  box. 
Without  knowing  that  she  had  done  so  she  had  opened 
the  cover  and  laid  it  back.  Looking  absently  down 
into  it,  she  became  gradually  aware  that  there  lay 
in  it  a  little  red  velvet  photograph  case.  It  was 
shut.  She  threw  a  sidelong  glance  at  Manning.  His 
back  was  still  unrelentingly  turned.  She  opened  the 
case  quickly.  There  was  a  tintype  in  it  —  of  a  child 

—  a  little  girl.     She  bent  warily  down. 

Then  she  sprang  up,  erect,  her  head  tossed  back, 
her  face  grown  livid,  the  case  in  her  hand.  The 
years  since  the  tintype  had  been  taken  had  changed 
Beatrice  Tennant,  but  not  too  much  for  the  resem 
blance  to  be  still  unmistakable.  And  Mrs.  Kemble 
had  not  only  seen  the  quaint  and  faded  picture,  she 
had  seen,  too,  a  dried  rose  lying  on  top  of  a  small 
package  of  clippings.  In  a  flash  there  had  come  to 
her  all  that  she  had  seen  upon  the  day  when  she 
had  watched  from  behind  the  curtains  of  her  room 

—  all  that  she  had   seen,   and  more   which  she  now 
guessed.      It    had   been    a    rose    that    Miss    Tennant 
had    dropped,   and   which    Manning    had    stooped   to 
pick  up  from   the   sidewalk   before   he   had  gone   on 
his  way.    This  was  the  rose.    And  there  was  the  news- 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  239 

paper  picture  of  Miss  Tennant,  which  had  been  turned 
face  down  ! 

It  had  all  come  to  her  in  a  quick  instant,  and 
Manning,  turning  toward  her  now  again,  saw  a  face 
ashen  and  contorted  with  rage. 

She  had  received  three  wounds  at  once,  —  to  her 
vanity,  her  jealousy,  and  her  passion.  And  the  madness 
of  fury  they  brought  her  to  was  beyond  anything  that 
his  experience  with  even  the  worst  of  men  or  women 
had  yet  shown  him.  He  fell  back  a  step  before  it. 
She  followed,  thrusting  her  convulsed  and  discolored 
face  up  into  his,  raging  hysterically  in  a  tempest  of 
abuse  and  invective,  of  unmeasured  and  salacious  lan 
guage  which  a  drunken  drab,  fighting  in  the  streets, 
might  have  failed  to  find  ready  to  her  tongue.  Her 
voice  cracked  and  shrilled  with  the  paroxysm.  She 
caught  hold  of  him  with  one  hand  and  shook  the  other, 
a  clenched  fist,  before  his  eyes.  He  saw  that  it 
grasped  something  —  something  red.  Then  he  knew. 
It  was  the  little  tintype  of  Beatrice.  Before  he  could 
seize  the  wrist  which  he  would  have  snapped  now  to 
get  the  picture,  she  had  given  it  a  vicious  jerk  that 
sent  the  case  out  of  the  open  window  into  the  street. 
And  suddenly  jumping  back  she  caught  up  the  dry  rose, 
crushed  it  to  powder,  and  flung  it  at  his  mouth.  With 
a  blow  of  her  knuckles  she  sent  the  despatch-box  bang 
ing  to  the  floor,  all  its  papers  scattered.  She  seized 
the  newspaper  and  tore  it  in  half  through  the  picture, 


240  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

throwing  that,  too,  in  his  face.  Every  term  which  the 
trollop  of  the  street  levels  at  another  of  her  kind,  she 
put  with  Beatrice's  name.  He  took  hold  of  her,  set 
her  aside,  and  went  to  the  door.  It  was  locked. 
"  Give  me  the  key,"  he  said.  She  put  her  hand  in 
her  pocket,  drew  out  the  key,  and  sent  that,  too,  out  of 
the  window.  The  old-fashioned  knob  was  strong,  but 
the  lock,  as  it  happened,  had  for  some  time  been  loose 
and  shaking.  He  got  a  purchase  on  the  knob  and 
burst  the  door  open.  He  had  used  both  his  hands,  and 
the  blood  began  to  drip  from  the  bandaged  left  one, 
the  wound  of  which  he  had  strained.  But  at  the 
exhibition  of  his  strength  Mrs.  Kemble's  voice  had 
stopped  instantly. 

Manning  looked  over  the  balusters  and  down  the 
stairs.  Apparently  the  sound  of  quarrelling  had  not 
brought  any  one  into  the  hallways.  It  was  just  the 
hour  when  most  of  the  men  were  usually  out,  and  the 
proprietress  in  the  kitchen  getting  her  own  dinner. 
No  one  was  in  sight.  He  told  Mrs.  Kemble  so.  She 
showed  signs  of  hesitating  and  refusing  to  go.  Then 
thinking  better  of  it,  she  straightened  her  hat,  and 
with  her  head  thrown  far  back  and  an  unsteady,  twisted 
sneer  on  her  lips,  she  went  past  him.  He  put  out  his 
hand  and  stopped  her.  "I  want  you  to  understand 
that  I  mean  it,"  he  told  her,  "  when  I  say  that  you 
had  better  not  speak  of  Miss  Tennant  to  any  one  — 
to  any  one,"  he  enforced  it.  She  spit  at  him  a  laugh 


CAPTAINS  OF  THE  WORLD  241 

of  contempt.  But  it  was  evident  that  she  was  cowed 
now. 

He  followed  her  closely  down  the  stairs  to  keep  her 
from  getting  first  to  where  the  case  with  the  tintype 
should  be  and  possessing  herself  of  it.  They  came 
upon  no  one  in  the  halls  or  front  yard.  Mrs.  Kemble 
went  out  through  the  gate.  Manning  found  the  velvet 
case,  put  it  in  his  pocket ;  looked  for  the  key,  and, 
finding  it  also,  went  back  to  his  room  to  care  for  the 
bleeding  hand. 

In  her  own  house  Mrs.  Kemble's  fury  had  time  to 
settle  down  into  a  savage  but  silent  wrath  before  her 
husband  came  home.  He  recognized  at  once  that  her 
temper  was  evil,  but  he  had  seen  it  so  before.  And 
he  was  too  full  of  his  own  bad  news  to  pay  much  heed 
to  her  ill  humor.  He  told  her  of  it.  He  had  been 
refused  work  at  the  mills.  The  amnesty  publicly 
granted  to  all  of  the  old  workmen  who  should  care  to 
return  to  the  plant  did  not,  it  appeared,  extend  to 
those  who  had  served  upon  the  committee. 

"  We  have  got  to  give  up  our  house,  my  dear,"  he 
said  sadly,  the  tears  in  the  mild  eyes  faded  and  weak 
from  long  years  of  looking  into  terrible  pits  of  fire. 
"  We  have  got  to  go  away  from  here  and  hunt  a  new 
job.  And  I  am  an  old  man,  a  broken  old  man.  There 
ain't  much  use  for  old  men  like  me  in  the  industrial 
world  these  here  days.  I'm  fifty.  I'm  dying  slow. 
The  work  has  killed  me  before  my  time."  In  the  last 


242  CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD 

few  weeks  his  cough  had  grown  more  severe,  and  it 
now  shook  him  until  he  was  breathless.  Then  his 
square,  gray  beard  dropped  on  his  chest.  His  wife  had 
sat  rigidly  silent.  "  I'm  fifty,  and  I've  worked  honest 
all  my  days.  And  now  I'm  used  up,"  he  repeated 
drearily.  "I've  got  to  go  out  and  begin  life  over 
again  —  with  the  chances  against  me  at  every  turn. 
It's  a  world  that  ain't  much  use  for  its  old  men  that 
have  done  their  best,  but  ain't  somehow  seemed  to 
succeed  —  ain't  had  the  gift  of  Providence  maybe  to 
be  able  to  do  more  than  their  regular  shift.  And  yet 
—  there's  got  to  be  some,  a  plenty,  that  ain't  above 
the  average  ;  that  can  only  do  the  thing  lying  before 
them  and  do  it  faithful.  And  when  they're  old 
they've  got  to  live  —  they  can't  be  shot  ?  " 

It  ended  in  his  usual  tone  of  questioning,  as  if 
asking  from  the  world  in  general  a  corroboration  of 
his  vague  ideas.  The  tears  had  gathered  on  his 
seared  lids  and  now  they  trickled  down  his  face 
and  beard,  falling  upon  his  clasped  and  trembling 
hands.  After  a  minute  he  wiped  them  away  with 
the  back  of  his  wrist.  "I  let  myself  think  —  I  let 
myself  look  ahead  —  and  I  done  what  I  believed 
was  right,"  he  defended  himself.  "But  I  hadn't 
ought  to  have  tried  it.  It  ain't  for  such  as  me  to 
have  opinions  and  a  conscience,  but  to  take  what 
them  in  power  gives  me  and  do  my  work  till  I  drop 
and  get  kicked  out.  That's  where  I  made  my  mis- 


CAPTAINS  OF  THE  WORLD  243 

take.  And  now  I'm  paying  for  it.  And  what's 
worse  —  what's  worse "  —  he  reached  out  his  hand 
to  his  wife  —  "is  that  you  may  have  to  pay  for  it, 
too."  She  looked  at  him  without  the  least  pity, 
ignoring  the  outstretched,  shaking  hand.  "But  I 
ain't  going  to  pay  for  it,"  she  said  decisively.  "I 
ain't  going  to  either  do  without  or  work.  And 
I  don't  have  to.  If — "  she  was  giving  each  word  its 
weight  of  meaning  —  "  if  you  ain't  able  to  support  me 
—  there  are  them  that  mil." 


CHAPTER   XX 

When  beggars  die  there  are  no  comets  seen, 
The  Heavens  themselves  blaze  forth  the  death  of  Princes. 

—  Julius  Ccesar. 

WHEN  the  morning  came  over  the  green,  thick- 
wooded  hills  that  lay  beyond  the  dreary  territory 
of  close-packed  houses  and  mills,  when  the  uproll- 
ing  steam  from  thousands  of  stacks  was  turned  to 
silver  against  the  black  smoke  clouds,  and  the  gold 
lights  and  long  shadows  of  sunrise  fell  upon  unnum 
bered  roofs,  the  light  of  the  new  day  was  shut  out 
from  the  silent  room  of  a  granite  mansion  where 
one  of  the  greatest  lay  dead.  But  it  came  between 
the  strips  of  ragged  and  dirty  calico  at  the  windows 
of  a  tenement  room  wherein  one  of  the  least  was  giv 
ing  up  a  life  which  from  its  first  beating  beneath 
the  shrunken  breasts  of  an  overburdened  mother  had 
been  foredoomed  as  without  hope. 

Tennant  had  died  in  the  night,  quite  clear-headed, 
without  qualms  or  fear,  fully  satisfied  with  what 
he  had  forced  from  an  adverse  world.  He  had  had 
the  consciousness  that  he  had  beaten  opposition  at 
every  turn  ;  that  even  then  there  were  working 
amid  the  fires  and  thunders  of  his  mills  at  Staunton 

244 


CAPTAINS  OF   THE   WORLD  245 

the  men  who  had  dared  for  a  time  to  stand  against 
his  will ;  that  the  gates  were  thronged  with  appli 
cants  for  the  privilege  of  accepting  without  question 
what  terms  he  had  been  pleased  to  grant;  that  those 
who  did  not  seek  the  privilege,  or  who  had  been 
refused  it,  were  facing  want,  —  it  might  be  starvation. 
When  breath  had  ceased  to  come  from  the  drawn 
and  sunken  lips,  there  seemed  to  remain  upon  them 
still  the  thin  smile  which  he  had  worn  always  as 
he  encountered  resistance  and  defeated  it.  The  child 
of  unfelt  shame,  born  in  a  hovel  of  the  slums,  he 
had  died  in  a  palace  of  gray  and  glittering  stone,  a 
conquering  captain  of  the  world. 

But  Nettie  Farraday's  baby  still  lived  on  through 
the  dark  hours  and  into  the  day.  It  had  lain  all 
night  on  the  blanket-covered  rag  mattress  placed  — 
for  want  of  a  bed  —  upon  the  floor.  The  little  boys 
had  had  another  blanket,  without  a  mattress,  and  an 
old  skirt  of  their  mother's  had  covered  them.  Nettie 
herself  had  slept,  as  best  she  could,  beside  the  baby. 

A  neighbor  across  the  hall  had  given  Nettie  the 
benefit  of  her  advice  and  of  a  brew  which  she  rec 
ommended  as  cheaper  and  more  efficacious  than  old 
Mrs.  Dome's  favored  remedy.  She  had  come  in 
several  times  before  going  to  bed,  looked  at  the 
baby,  and  reassured  Nettie  as  to  the  seriousness  of 
the  trouble,  which  was  only,  she  pronounced,  a 
cold  and  fever.  She  had  approved  the  suggestion 


246  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

that  a  piece  of  sickly  yellow  peach  pie  which  Nettie 
had  brought  from  the  restaurant  might  be  a  good 
thing  to  tempt  a  capricious  appetite.  That  the  baby 
would  not  eat  had  been  one  of  Nettie's  chief  causes 
for  uneasiness.  But  she  had  been  able  to  induce 
it  to  take  a  little  of  the  pie,  and  had  felt  thereby 
somewhat  encouraged. 

It  was  the  thought  that  the  cold  had  been  caught 
on  the  morning  of  the  fight,  when  she  had  refused 
Manning's  request  to  take  the  children  home,  which 
worried  Nettie.  Several  times  during  the  night  she 
had  lighted  the  bit  of  candle  she  had  borrowed  from 
the  friendly  neighbor,  and  had  looked  at  the  flushed 
face,  giving  a  drink  of  water  to  the  little  parched  lips. 

Now  by  the  daylight  she  could  see  that  the  face  was 
no  longer  feverish,  but  white  with  purple  hollows 
about  the  great  eyes,  and  the  blue  veins  on  the  fore 
head  more  than  ever  plain.  She  took  this  to  be  a 
hopeful  sign,  as  she  did  also  that  the  baby  had  ceased 
to  fret  and  lay  quite  still  and  good.  The  little  boys 
were  still  asleep,  and  there  was  no  reason  for  waking 
them.  She  went  over  upon  tip-toes  to  the  window, 
and  stood  there  looking  down  into  the  dirty  and 
miserable  street  where  the  laborers  and  workmen 
passed  on  their  way  to  and  from  the  plant.  She  won 
dered  how  long  it  would  be  before  Mr.  Lester  would 
carry  out  his  promise  of  providing  for  them  all  in  some 
orphan  asylum.  It  was  a  promise  which  she  regarded 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  247 

rather  as  a  threat.  No  asylum  had  come  within  her 
twelve  years  of  experience  ;  but  she  had  questioned 
about  it,  and  had  been  told  that  the  four  of  them  would 
have  to  be  taken  over  to  the  city  and  be  separated. 
That  had  filled  her  with  dread.  She  knew  Staunton, 
she  knew  everybody  in  her  neighborhood.  She  did 
not  know  the  city  or  anybody  in  it.  And  as  for  being 
separated  from  the  others  —  the  thought  of  it  raised 
resistance  in  her  stanch  little  soul.  She  did  not  want 
the  children  to  be  taken  away  from  her.  They  were 
all  that  she  had.  And  the  baby  —  what  would  happen 
to  it  without  herself  to  look  after  it  ?  She  did  not 
want  to  go  to  an  asylum  —  she  determined  rebelliously 
that  she  would  not.  She  would  take  the  children  and 
run  away  —  hide  where  Mr.  Lester  and  her  own  priest 
(who  was  helping  in  it  all  and  making  the  arrange 
ments)  could  not  find  them.  She  had  seen  Neil  the 
night  before  for  a  few  minutes.  He  had  come  to  the 
tenement.  And  he  had  told  her  that  he  was  going 
away  to-day.  She  would  go  to  him  and  ask  him  to 
take  them  too. 

A  slight  sound,  like  a  weak  plaint,  came  from  the 
corner  where  the  baby  lay.  Her  ear,  which  had  the 
quickness  of  a  maternal  solicitude,  heard  it.  She  went 
at  once  to  the  mattress.  The  baby's  eyes  were  wide 
open,  very  wide.  Their  look  was  curiously  vacant, 
and  the  lips  were  apart  as  if  breath  were  being 
struggled  for.  Nettie  wondered  if  it  were  all  right  — 


248  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

or  was  something  the  matter  ?  She  stood  with  her 
head  on  one  side  watching,  debating  whether  she  had 
not  better  call  the  woman  from  across  the  hall.  And 
even  as  she  decided  to,  there  came  a  sudden  change  — 
the  eyes  rolled  up  in  their  sockets,  the  jaws  clenched 
and  the  lips  shrunk  back  ;  a  bluish  tinge  came  over 
all  the  face  ;  the  tiny,  fleshless  arms  were  thrown  out, 
then  stiffened  —  the  fists  tight-shut.  In  the  moment 
that  Nettie  hesitated,  in  her  fright,  it  was  over.  The 
contracted  muscles  relaxed,  the  eyes  stared  glassy,  and 
the  baby  was  still. 

For  a  long  minute  Nettie  stood  looking  down.  Then 
she  bent  over  and  felt  of  the  bits  of  arms,  of  the  face,  of 
the  neck.  She  lifted  the  head  and  shoulders  tentatively 
— then  let  them  drop  back.  She  knew.  And  springing 
erect,  her  face  wild  with  her  fear,  she  gave  one  loud 
shriek  of  terror  at  this  Thing  with  which  she  was  all 
alone  in  the  gray  dawn.  It  was  a  wail  for  help.  But 
the  neighbors  out  in  the  hallway  were  accustomed  to 
noise  and  cries.  If  they  heard,  they  paid  no  heed. 
Only  the  two  boys,  wakened  now,  scrambled  out  from 
under  the  tattered  skirt,  and  went  across  the  floor  to 
where  their  sister  had  thrown  herself  on  her  knees,  and 
lifting  the  poor  little  rigid  body  of  which  she  was  afraid, 
was  trying  to  shake  it  back  to  that  life  which  a  some 
times  merciful  Providence  had  willed  it  to  escape. 

They  stood  together,  puzzled,  —  crying  because  they 
too  were  frightened,  —  observing  questioningly. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Parceque  le  caractere  commande,  qu'il  commande  meme  au 
sentiment. 

Because  character  dominates,  dominates  even  sentiment. 

—  Journal  de  De  Guibert. 

THAT  same  faculty  in  human  nature  which  has  in  all 
ages  enabled  the  average  mind  to,  in  matters  of  faith,  be 
lieve  dogmas  absolutely  untenable  to  reason,  frequently 
shocking  to  the  finer  sense,  and  opposed  to  every  revela 
tion  of  experience  or  of  the  visible  world,  is  quite  as  potent 
in  enabling  us  to  actually  feel,  under  certain  conditions, 
the  emotions  which  those  conditions  are  generally  ex 
pected  to  arouse.  And  especially  is  this  true  as  regards 
woman,  sentimental,  conservative,  aye  —  retrogressive 
woman,  temperamentally  the  foe  of  intellect ;  who  is 
like  the  youth  since  infancy  imprisoned  in  the  dark 
and  who  struggled  against  being  brought  into  the  light, 
suffering  because  of  it. 

Man,  freed  from  a  bond  of  untruth,  can  feel  with  ela 
tion  that  a  fetter  has  fallen  from  his  soul.  But,  whether 
it  be  inherently  or  by  force  of  long  tradition,  woman's 
first  consciousness  is  that  of  shame,  as  it  were  a  gar 
ment  withdrawn  from  her  modesty.  A  man  may  boast 

249 


250  CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD 

that  he  has  outgrown  a  fable  of  faith,  a  woman  will 
defend  herself  for  it.  A  man  may  accept  it  and  let  it 
pass  as  a  fact  that  he  does  not  weep  or  does  not  rise 
to  transports  where  it  is  commonly  looked  for  that  he 
should.  A  woman  shrinks  from  herself,  in  such  a  case, 
as  one  unnatural,  in  some  way  an  unpleasant  anomaly, 

It  was  some  such  feeling  that  Beatrice  Tennant  ex 
perienced  when,  the  day  after  her  father  had  been  buried, 
she  faced  the  future  and  her  absolute  loneliness,  and 
had  to  realize  that  she  was  more  conscious  of  indepen 
dence  than  of  grief.  It  seemed  to  her  that  there  must  be 
in  herself  something  unf  eminine,  unhuman  even,  that  her 
heart  was  not  wrung  over  the  death  of  her  father  —  the 
one  parent  she  had  known.  Though  there  had  never 
been  any  real  affection  between  them,  it  would  have  been 
right  and  proper  to  feel  miserable  and  inconsolable. 
That  she  actually  did  not,  made  her  almost  aghast  at 
herself.  Yet  what  she  felt  was  something  very  nearly 
relief  from  the  dominance  of  a  personality  which  had 
always,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  had  the  effect  of 
sapping  that  of  others. 

As  she  sat  in  her  window  looking  out  on  the  grounds 
with  all  their  flowers  and  trees,  she  wondered  if  there 
were  not,  after  all,  a  tinge  of  the  abnormal  in  her. 
That  man  the  ideal  stands  erect,  and  that  woman  the 
ideal  leans,  she  knew.  But  in  the  last  two  days  she  had 
not  felt  the  inclination  to  lean.  She  had  taken  very 
naturally  to  standing  unsupported.  She  had  ordered 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  251 

the  household  and  all  the  matter  of  her  father's  burial, 

—  with  assistance,  to  be  sure,  yet  still  as  herself  the  one 
assuming  responsibility.     And  was  she  not  abnormal, 
too,  in  what  began  to  seem  her  inability  to  love  ?     The 
thing  which  is  usually  accepted  for  the  female's  love 

—  the  reflection  of  that  of  the  initiating  male  —  she  had 
never  been  able  to  make  suffice  for  herself.     In  the  case 
of  Valerio  she  had  tried  to  do  so,  but  she  knew  now 
that  it  was  impossible.     She  knew  that  she  could  not 
bring  herself  to  marry  him.     So  soon  as  idealization  had 
changed  to  reality,  so  soon  as  it  had  been  not  merely  in 
thought  to  live  through  years  of  pleasant  companion 
ship,   amid  poetic  and  picturesque    surroundings,  but 
to  submit  to  the  intimacy  of  betrothal,  to   take   his 
kisses,  and  give  her  own,  her  whole  mind  and  body  had 
revolted  from  that  and  from  marriage.     His  caresses 
had  left  her,  not  cold,  but  hotly  shuddering,  and  she 
had  known  that  there  was  still  in  her  blood  the  saving 
grace  of  the  class  from  which  she  had  come,  which  is 
guided  in  its  unions  by  no  artificial  influences.     She 
could  not  take  the  marriage  of  convention  as  a  matter 
of  course.     And  to  that,  a  refinement  in  herself  added 
that  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  it  as  a  matter  of 
ambition.     She  had  a  rebellious  feeling  that  she  was 
entitled  to  a  stronger,  a  less  considered  love  than  the 
man  who  was  now  her  betrothed  was  giving  her.     It 
would  be  impossible  —  she  knew  perfectly  how  utterly 
impossible  —  to  tell  Valerio,  to  tell  any  one,  that  she  had 


252  CAPTAINS   OP  THE  WORLD 

learned  from  a  workman  in  her  father's  mills  what  might 
be  the  strength  and  depth  of  love  in  a  man.  Yet  having 
learned  it,  she  could  not  force  herself  to  be  satisfied 
with  a  poorer  thing.  There  might  come  still  the  one 
who  could  give  her  a  great  and  powerful  devotion  which 
she  could  return.  If  not,  then  —  the  best  was  enemy 
of  the  good,  and  she  would  take  nothing  rather  than 
the  lesser  and  more  weak. 

And  she  had  decided  already  to  tell  Valerio  this. 
It  had  seemed  to  her  more  honest  to  do  so  at  once 
—  altogether  apart  from  the  fact  that  she  revolted 
against  longer  continuing  in  the  position  of  one 
owing  the  attitude  of  an  affianced  wife.  For  since 
their  engagement  Valerio  had  become  more  the 
lover  than  she  had  expected  from  his  former  reserve 
of  speech  and  deed.  She  had  intended  to  let  him 
know  the  truth  frankly,  but  as  kindly  as  possible, 
upon  the  evening  before.  But  in  this  she  had  been 
prevented  by  the  coming  of  both  Lester  and  Durran 
with  offers  of  sympathy  and  of  assistance  in  various 
matters. 

Lester,  who  had  appeared  before  either  Valerio  or 
Durran,  had  told  her  of  many  things  in  Staunton,  — 
of  the  death  of  the  Farraday  baby,  of  arrangements 
which  the  priest  was  making  to  have  the  three  other 
children  cared  for  in  some  institution,  of  little  Mrs. 
Steinberg's  improved  condition,  and  of  Manning's 
departure  to  another  state.  And  she,  in  turn,  had 


CAPTAINS  OF  THE  WORLD  253 

given  him  some  idea  of  her  plans  for  the  immediate 
future.  If  he  had  been  surprised  that  Valerie's 
name  was  not  foremost  in  them,  —  did  not  indeed 
transpire  at  all,  —  he  had  not  showed  it.  And  she 
had  ceased  to  mention  of  plans  directly  Valerio  had 
arrived. 

Now,  however,  she  meant  to  speak  as  soon  as  the 
prince  should  come  again  to  see  her.  Had  it  not 
been  for  her  father's  break-neck  haste  to  clinch  the 
engagement  by  making  it  public,  had  he  not  imme 
diately  talked  of  it  to  the  nurses,  the  doctor,  and 
his  one  or  two  visitors,  the  situation  would  have 
been  far  less  difficult.  It  need  never  have  been 
generally  known  that  any  engagement  had  existed. 
It  had  suggested  itself  to  her  that  most  girls,  placed 
as  she  found  herself,  would  have  considered  public 
opinion  sufficiently  to  have  let  things  go  on  for  a 
time  yet  as  they  were.  But  public  opinion  had 
always  weighed  very  little  with  her  when  placed  in 
the  scale  against  her  own  wishes,  reason,  and  sense 
of  honesty. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  Valerio  came.  She  was  in 
the  library  at  the  time,  and  she  sent  for  him  to 
come  there.  The  library  was  panelled  and  furnished 
in  dark  wood,  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  shelves 
filled  with  books,  —  those  books  which,  all  unwit 
tingly  to  the  owner,  betray  that  he  is  one  to  whom 
reading  is  neither  a  necessity  nor  a  real  pleasure, 


254  CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD 

but  a  duty  which  may  be,  and  usually  is,  shirked,  — 
books  in  unbroken  sets  of  handsome,  uniform  bind 
ings,  anthologies,  vicarious  choices  of  masterpieces  in 
fragments,  neatly  ranged,  totally  without  that  sug 
gestion  of  individuality  which  may  be  had  by  the 
exterior  of  a  volume  or  of  a  dwelling.  The  Tennant 
books,  like  the  furniture,  with  which  their  purchaser 
had  ranked  them,  had  all  been  bought  within  a  very 
short  space  of  time.  There  had  been  plenty  of 
money  paid  for  them.  They  were  such  as  might  be 
vouched  for  as  the  best  in  respect  of  binding,  gilt, 
paper,  and  contents.  A  house  required  a  library,  a 
library  required  shelves,  the  shelves  required  books. 
Tennant  had  had  the  books  bought  by  the  boxful, 
as  nearly  of  a  size  as  possible,  of  colors  that  would  suit 
the  room.  And  he  had  been  satisfied  with  the  effect, 
had  contrasted  it  more  than  favorably,  in  his  own  mind, 
with  the  Durran  library  into  which  he  had  once  or 
twice  entered,  a  littered,  unordered  room  filled  to  over 
flowing  with  volumes  of  all  sizes,  in  all  manner  of 
dress, —  usually  inexpensive,  frequently  shabby,  —  and 
placed  absolutely  without  regard  for  size  and  sym 
metry.  When  he  had  spoken  of  his  own  library,  there 
after,  Tennant's  voice  had  been  wont  to  take  on  a 
tone  of  importance.  That  there  might  be  humor  in 
his  beautifully  filled  tiers  would  have  been  the  last 
thing  possible  for  him  to  understand. 

Yet  as  Valerio  came  to  the  door  and   saw  them,  a 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  255 

quiver  of  amusement  flickered  over  his  face.  Beatrice 
was  sitting  at  the  big  desk,  which  alone,  in  the  place, 
had  the  appearance  of  service.  The  sombre  woodwork, 
and  the  ceiling  high  rows  of  rich-colored  leather  backs, 
surrounded  her.  She  was,  herself,  all  in  black,  which 
made  her  light  brown  hair  seem  yet  more  light  and 
gold-tinged,  and,  as  she  rose  to  come  forward,  made  her 
slender,  tall  figure  look  more  than  ever  supple  and 
well  proportioned. 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  upon  the 
lips.  She  was  unresponsive,  but  she  had  been  so  from 
the  first,  and  he  had  never  really  expected  her  to 
be  otherwise.  It  was  in  keeping  with  what  he  had 
always  understood  her  to  be.  And,  as  she  herself  had 
sometime  since  realized,  what  he  felt  for  her  was  not 
the  quality  of  love  which  needs  a  responsive  heart. 
Without  perhaps  having  ever  so  formulated  his  opinion, 
he  took  his  manner  of  regarding  marriage  from  the 
founders  of  his  race,  and  believed  that  the  justification 
of  the  Sabine  rape  was  at  the  foot  of  the  Capitol  two 
years  afterward. 

He  had  come  with  the  intention  of  getting  her  to 
talk  to  him  of  her  plans,  and  then,  if  possible,  win  her 
consent  to  a  quiet  marriage  within  a  few  days.  He 
had  not  meant  to  come  to  this  latter  subject  immedi 
ately  and  without  preparation,  but  the  touch  of  her 
hands  and  lips  made  it  his  possessing  idea  now.  And 
without  waiting,  still  holding  her  in  his  arms,  he  asked 


256  CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD 

softly,  "Why  should  we  not  be  married  at  once, 
Beatrice  ?  " 

She  drew  herself  away  and  moved  to  a  little  distance 
from  him,  standing  looking  down  at  the  papers  she  had 
been  going  over.  Then  she  turned  to  him. 

"  Will  you  ever  forgive  me,  I  wonder,  Alberto,  if  I 
tell  you  that  I  think  we  had  better  not  be  married  at 
all  ?  " 

He  took  it  as  she  would  have  expected,  —  with  a 
sudden  coldness  and  rigidity.  Only  the  slight  paling 
of  his  face  showed  any  approach  to  the  emotion  which 
she  knew  that  he  strongly  felt. 

Even  in  a  moment  which  was  for  him  a  crisis  of  no 
small  import,  his  courtesy  did  not  fail  him.  She  was 
standing,  and  he  might  not  himself  be  seated  until  she 
should  be.  He  moved  a  chair  for  her,  stood  with 
his  hand  upon  the  back,  and  waited  for  her  to  take 
it.  And  though  she  would  have  preferred  to  remain 
as  she  was,  feeling  more  command  of  herself  and  of 
the  situation,  she  took  the  proffered  chair  almost  as 
if  under  compulsion.  Yet,  if  she  had  been  ever  so 
slightly  undetermined  before,  now  her  decision  was 
clinched. 

She  rebelled,  in  the  first  enjoyment  of  her  absolute 
freedom  of  action,  from  this  quiet,  civil  pressure  of 
another  strong  personality  —  very  like  that  which  her 
own  father  had  exercised,  but  sure  to  be  even  more 
impossible  to  stand  against,  since  behind  it  was  the 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  257 

incalculable  force  of  an  imperturbable  outward  cour 
tesy, —  and  would  be  the  dominance  of  the  husband. 

He  had  himself  taken  a  chair  close  in  front  of  her. 
She  remembered  in  consequently  that  it  was  the  one 
in  which  her  father  had  sat  upon  the  evening  when 
Valeric  had  first  come  to  the  house. 

He  waited  for  her  to  speak  again.  She  felt  the  com 
pulsion  which  obliged  her  to  do  so,  even  as  it  had 
obliged  her  to  cease  to  stand. 

"Please  believe  that,  in  these  last  days,  I  have 
thought  a  great  deal  of  what  it  would  be  kindest  and 
best  to  do,"  she  said  ;  "  and  it  has  seemed  to  me  that 
the  longer  I  should  let  our  engagement  go  on,  the 
greater  wrong  I  should  be  doing  to  you  —  to  both 
of  us." 

Might  he  ask  her  reasons  ?  he  questioned,  with  out 
ward  composure. 

"  I  do  not  love  you,"  she  told  him  ;  "  that  is  all." 

"I  have  never  asked  you  to  say  that  you  did,"  he 
reminded  her  ;  "but  I  had  hoped  to  teach  you  to." 

She  moved  her  head  slowly  in  negative.  "  That  may 
be  possible  with  a  certain  type  of  woman,  but  by  merely 
making  a  wife  and  the  mother  of  your  children  of  one 
like  myself,  you  cannot  attach  her  to  you. " 

He  showed  his  disapproval  of  her  manner  of  stating 
it.  It  was  objectionable  to  him  that  a  young  and 
unmarried  woman  should  have  thoughts  of  the  sort, 
and,  still  worse,  put  them  into  plain  words.  It  struck 


258  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

harshly  upon  his  conception  of  her  and  made  him 
almost  ready  to  accept  her  decision  with  willingness. 
"  Will  you  tell  me  whether  you  were  forced  by  your 
father  to  accept  me  in  the  first  place  ?  "  he  said. 

"  No,  —  "  she  answered  it  honestly,  —  "I  was  not.  He 
wished  me  to  accept  you.  He  asked  me  to.  But  I  was 
ready  to  grant  the  request." 

"You  thought  then  that  you  might  love  me,  but 
now  you  think  that  you  do  not  —  could  not?"  said 
Valerio. 

She  could  tell  that  he  did  not  fully  trust  her  sincerity, 
but  was  speculating  as  to  the  ulterior  motive.  "  Now 
I  know  that  I  could  not,"  she  corrected,  a  little  inclined 
to  be  resentful.  "  Can  you  not  understand  ? "  She 
clasped  her  white  and  slender  hands  about  her  knees, 
leaning  forward  in  her  earnestness.  "  Can  you  not 
understand  how  a  woman  who  has  never  —  "  she  hesi 
tated  —  "  who  has  never  been  made  love  to  other  than 
in  words  might  imagine  it  possible  to  marry  a  man  who 
had  proved  himself  congenial,  companionable,  for  whom 
she  really  cared  —  in  another  way  ?  " 

He  lifted  his  shoulders  by  way  of  answer. 

"Yet,"  Beatrice  went  on,  "when  she  should  be 
come  actually  engaged,  when  she  should  have  to  begin 
to  approach  the  real  facts  — "  She  gave  over  the 
attempt  to  explain,  and,  with  an  impatient  sense  of 
the  little  meaning  she  could  convey  in  words,  left  her 
chair  and  went  again  to  the  desk,  shifting  about  the 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  259 

pens  and  seals  and  pencils,  in  a  good  deal  of  disturb 
ance.  "  If  I  were  to  marry  you,  I  could  not  live 
with  you  —  I  should  take  any  step.  I  suppose  I  am  too 
independent,  that  I  have  the  trait  of  my  race  which  is 
thought  a  fault  in  a  woman.  But  I  would  not  stand  it ; 
I  should  go  away."  She  gave  over  handling  the  things 
on  the  desk,  and  faced  him  determinedly.  "  Don't  you 
think,  Alberto,  that  since  I  have  discovered  this  in 
time,  I  am  right  to  tell  you  before  the  harm  is  done. 
Believe  me,  that  if  I  was  not  quite  honest  with  either 
of  us  before,  I  am  now.  I  care  for  you  still  —  or  at 
least  I  shall  when  I  shall  have  had  a  little  time  to  for 
get  these  last  few  days."  She  saw  that  he  winced,  and 
regretted  the  too  entire  frankness  into  which  her  wish 
to  be  absolutely  sincere  had  led  her.  "But  I  could 
not  marry  you,"  she  ended.  "  If  I  did,  if  I  were  to  let 
my  sentiment  and  my  liking  for  many  of  the  things  you 
can  offer  get  the  better  of  my  reason  —  I  should  not 
stay  with  you.  I  could  not"  She  threw  back  her 
head  and  bit  her  quivering  lip  to  keep  it  steady. 

"  Who  has  helped  to  teach  you  this  —  to  give  you  the 
standard  for  contrast  ?  "  asked  Valerio,  in  a  voice  which 
was  suave,  though  the  words  with  their  contemptuous 
meaning  were  stung  from  him  by  a  very  justifiable 
anger  at  being  so  unflatteringly  showed  the  revulsion 
which  his  touch  had  caused. 

"You  cannot  understand  it,  can  you?"  she  said 
helplessly.  "You  cannot  believe  that  I  am  sincere 


260  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOELD 

now,  at  least  ?  No  one  has  helped  to  teach  me.  I  have 
no  standard  for  contrast.  There  is  no  one  that  I  love 
and  there  has  never  been." 

A  silence  fell  between  them.  Then  Beatrice  brought 
herself  to  another  subject  which  she  had  decided  to 
speak  of.  "  There  is  one  more  thing  with  regard  to 
which  I  want  to  justify  myself  to  you,"  she  said  ;  "yet 
I  think  I  need  hardly  tell  you,  either,  that  it  was  not  I 
who  was  responsible  for  our  engagement  having  become 
so  soon  a  matter  of  public  knowledge." 

He  bowed  his  head  in  comprehension.  "  I  am  sure 
of  that,"  he  said,  but  refrained  from  speaking  of  the 
very  unpleasant  effect  which  had  been  made  upon  him 
by  what  he  had,  from  the  first,  guessed  to  be  Tennant's 
extreme  haste  to  circulate  the  news. 

"  It  would  have  been  much  better  for  both  of  us  now 
if  it  had  all  been  kept  to  ourselves,"  went  on  Beatrice. 
"As  it  is,  I  think  we  had  better,  for  a  time  at  least, 
say  little  of  our  changed  plans.  You  will  be  going 
away,  I  suppose  —  back  to  Italy,  perhaps  ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  told  her,  "probably  so." 

"And  I  will  go  away  too  for  a  few  months — back 
to  Paris,  I  think.  I  could  stay  with  the  Sisters  there, 
I  believe,  and  I  have  felt  in  the  last  few  days  that  I 
should  like  to  see  them  again." 

This  seemed  to  Valerio  more  suitable  than  much 
that  she  had  said  to-day.  "And  after  that  — "  he 
asked. 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE  WOKLD  261 

"  After  that  ?  I  have  hardly  planned  so  far  ahead," 
she  said  uncertainly.  "  But  I  shall,  I  suppose,  be  what 
is  very  rich  for  a  woman,  and  my  money  should  do 
good  to  some  one  besides  myself." 

They  sat  for  a  time  longer  speaking  of  the  present 
and  the  future.  Then  Valeric  rose  to  go.  Beatrice 
held  out  her  hand  to  him,  a  look  of  something  even 
better  than  the  old  friendship  and  liking  coming  into 
her  eyes  again.  He  held  the  hand'  in  both  his  own  as 
he  looked  into  her  face. 

"  I  have  loved  you,"  he  said.  "  And  I  do  love  you. 
I  have  already  lived  too  long  to  be  able  to  think  that 
love  remains  the  same  through  years  and  separation, 
but  I  believe  that  there  will  never  come  a  time,  even 
at  the  close  of  my  life,  when  I  shall  remember  you 
without  a  deep  regret." 

She  had  nothing  to  answer. 

"  Will  you  write  to  me  sometimes  and  let  me  know 
as  much  as  you  care  to  of  what  the  years  shall  have 
brought  you  ?  "  he  asked.  "  And  when  there  comes 
the  hour  of  the  surrender  which  could  not  be  to  me, 
but  which  some  man  will  win  yet  —  will  you  let  me 
know  ?  " 

She  promised. 

She  went  with  him  to  the  door,  and  there  could  be 
before  the  waiting  footman  no  further  words  of  part 
ing.  When  he  was  gone  she  turned  back  into  the 
great  house.  The  footman,  his  arm  banded  with  black 


262  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

for  a  master  to  whom  no  tie  but  that  of  pay  had  bound 
him,  stood  rigid  as  she  passed  him  by.  She  moved 
slowly  across  the  wide  and  shadowy  entrance  hall,  and 
went  up  the  stairs.  There  was  no  human  sound,  not 
even  that  of  her  own  footsteps  upon  the  deep  carpets, 
—  only  the  stillness  from  all  the  many  empty  corridors 
and  rooms. 

Her  fair  head  bowed  forward  slightly  as  if  with 
sadness  and  the  conscious  weight  of  her  own  great 
responsibilities  and  wealth,  the  black  folds  of  her 
mourning  falling  about  her,  and  she  went  on  up  through 
the  silence,  alone. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

Le  ciel  est  sourd  aux  prieres  des  foibles. 
Heaven  is  deaf  to  the  prayers  of  the  weak. 

—  Nouvelle  Helolse. 

AT  the  time  of  his  marriage  to  Evelyn  Woolmer, 
Durran  had  bought  for  himself  a  piece  of  property 
almost  directly  across  the  wide  avenue  from  the  house 
which  had  been  Tennant's.  So  that  Beatrice,  standing 
in  one  of  its  windows  now,  looked  over  into  the  grounds, 
and  could  see  the  very  spot  among  the  leafless 
bushes  where  her  father  had  fallen  wounded  mortally, 
and  could  see,  too,  the  white  granite  gleaming  coldly 
through  the  driving  snow,  the  windows  of  the  room 
where  her  father  had  died,  and  the  threshold  which, 
seven  years  before,  she  had  crossed  for  the  last  time, 
abandoning  the  house  to  strangers.  Then  she  had 
faced  the  world,  mistress  of  herself  and  of  large  wealth. 
To-day  she  was  her  own  mistress  still,  but  the  fortune 
which  remained  to  her  was  merely  sufficient  to  keep 
her  from  the  necessity  for  work. 

Some  weeks  previously  — preceded  by  signs  and  warn 
ings  to  which  an  excellent  business  sense  had  not  let 
her  be  oblivious  —  had  come  the  hour  when  she  had  had 

263 


264  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

to  know  that  so  much  of  her  capital  as  she  had  kept  for 
herself,  and  had  not  irrevocably  devoted  to  other  pur 
poses,  was  diminished  to  an  extent  which  would  neces 
sitate  a  very  great  change  in  what  had  been,  up  to  the 
present,  her  manner  of  life.  To  all  outward  seeming 
she  had  faced  this  crisis  as  quietly,  as  resolutely,  as  she 
had  that  other  which  had  thrown  her  upon  her  own 
responsibilities  with  millions  at  her  command.  She 
had  decided  that  she  would  no  longer  be  able  to  keep  the 
small  but  beautiful  house  in  which  she  was  living,  that 
she  must  do  without  the  woman  whom  she  had  had 
for  her  companion,  and  that  she  must  discharge  her 
servants. 

As  she  had  been  fortunate,  seven  years  past,  in  sell 
ing  the  big,  white,  granite  house,  she  had  now  again 
been  equally  so  in  disposing  of  the  little  one  of  Pom- 
peiian  brick,  grown  over  with  vines  and  hidden  from 
the  street  by  lilacs  and  big  trees.  But  she  had  loved 
the  latter,  and  the  former  had  held  almost  no  sentiment 
for  her,  so  in  secret  she  had  shed  bitter  tears  at  this 
second  going  forth.  Then,  with  the  tears  dried,  and  with 
no  visible  emotion,  she  had  gone  out  to  the  carriage 
in  which  Evelyn  waited,  and  had  been  driven  to  the 
Durran  house,  where  she  was  to  remain  until  she 
should  have  made  definite  plans  for  her  future. 
******* 

Upon  more  than  one  occasion  Evelyn  had  spoken  to 
her  husband  of  Beatrice  —  forcing  herself  not  to  betray 


CAPTAINS   OP  THE   WORLD  265 

the  jealousy  of  which  she  was  ashamed,  but  which  in 
her  heart  she  had  never  been  able  to  overcome. 

"  But  why,"  she  had  once  asked  him,  "  does  she  not 
enjoy  her  money  for  herself  ?  Why  does  she  spend  it 
nearly  all  in  that  dull  way, — on  all  those  political  and 
factory  things  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  Durran  had  suggested,  "  it  may  be  be 
cause  she  has  suspicions  that  it  was  largely  obtained 
by  methods  merely  legally  acceptable.  Perhaps  she  is 
possessed  of  an  underlying  motive  of  restitution.  Pay 
ing  Paul  with  what  has  been  done  away  from  Peter  is 
frequently  the  best  we  can  do  toward  evening  matters 
up  in  this  complicated  modern  world." 

It  was  hardly  in  expectation  of  being  understood  that 
he  spoke;  but  he  had  grown  accustomed  to  holding, 
with  his  pretty  and  plaintive  young  wife,  conversations 
which,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  were  practically 
monologues  —  much  as  one  discusses  one's  inmost  senti 
ments  and  hopes  with  an  affectionate  dog,  and  precisely 
because  it  cannot  understand. 

Had  Mr.  Tennant  been  dishonest,  then?  Evelyn 
had  asked.  "  On  the  contrary,"  had  answered  Durran, 
"he  was  above  conviction."  Her  usually  smooth  fore 
head  had  been  creased  with  lines  of  perplexity.  "  Well, 
—  anyway,"  she  had  abandoned  it,  "  if  she  hasn't  done 
anything  questionable  herself,  I  can't  see  why  she 
should  bother  about  making  it  up  now.  She  might 
live  splendidly,  and  dress  and  entertain  superbly — and 
marry  any  one  she  pleased." 


266  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

A  need  for  the  expiation  of  parental  misdeeds  had 
never,  up  to  then,  entered  into  her  very  simple  ethics. 
Recently,  however,  she  had  herself  experienced  it. 
Through  several  administrations  the  entire  country  had 
been  swept  by  a  great  wave  of  unexampled  prosperity. 
On  the  crest  of  that  wave  had  ridden  Woolmer,  no 
longer  merely  a  coke  magnate,  but  become  one  of  the 
world's  chiefest  financial  dictators.  The  wave,  risen  to 
too  great  a  height  to  longer  sustain  itself,  had  broken 
at  last,  and  the  multitude  which  had  watched  it  in  awe 
and  admiration,  believing  it  to  be  something  phenom 
enal,  unlike  anything  of  its  sort  ever  seen  before,  of 
a  nature  destined  to  be  permanent,  had  come,  in  the 
end,  to  know  that  it  had  been,  for  the  most  part,  but  a 
mighty  body  of  watered  stocks. 

The  country  had  faced  a  panic,  which  had,  however, 
settled  down  into  no  worse  than  depression  and  hard 
times,  felt  most  severely,  as  usual,  by  the  most  weak 
and  helpless,  the  least  guilty,  but  affecting  all  interests 
in  greater  or  less  degree.  Beatrice  Tennant's  money, 
invested  as  it  had  been  in  those  very  interests  where 
with  Woolmer  was  most  connected,  had  gone  the  way 
of  much  other.  Whither  that  might  be,  indignant 
stockholders  were  now  demanding  of  Woolmer  and  his 
companions  through  the  courts. 

Immediately  upon  learning  that  of  which  the  press 
and  public  left  her  slight  doubt,  —  that  it  was  through 
her  father's  fault  that  Beatrice's  fortune  was  gone,  — 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  267 

Evelyn  had  insisted  that  Beatrice  should  come  to  the 
Durran  house  and  remain  there  as  long  as  possible. 
Beatrice  had  agreed,  chiefly  by  way  of  giving  proof 
that  she  bore  Evelyn  no  ill-will  for  Woolmer's  wrong 
doing.  She  had  been  without  the  smallest  conception 
of  the  conflict  with,  and  conquering  of,  self  which  giving 
the  invitation  had  required.  She  did  not  so  much  as 
suspect  that  Mrs.  Durran  was  jealous  of  that  past  of 
her  husband's,  wherein  it  had  been  common  knowledge 
that  he  had  wished  to  marry  Miss  Tennant  —  and,  too, 
of  that  present,  wherein  he  spoke  with  Beatrice  of  in 
numerable  things  which  to  his  wife  were  either  dully 
uninteresting  or  else  meant  nothing  at  all. 

So  Beatrice  for  twenty-four  hours  had  been  with  the 
Durrans.  Others  —  who,  having  less,  had  had  all  taken 
from  them  —  were  without  shelter  from  the  severity  of 
a  winter  unequalled  in  long  years.  In  every  occupa 
tion  hundreds  and  thousands  had  been  turned  away. 
Wages  were  everywhere  either  reduced  or  about  to  be 
so  ;  and  the  most  cruel  suffering  was  upon  every  side. 
Had  the  time,  like  that  of  Richelieu,  brought  forth 
another  Barefooted  John  from  the  priesthood,  he  might 
have  gathered  together,  without  effort,  his  Army  of 
Suffering.  Into  even  the  prosperous  districts  where, 
for  miles  upon  either  side  of  wide  avenues,  were  small 
palaces  in  the  midst  of  ample  grounds,  there  came  all 
through  the  day  and  far  into  the  night  the  starving 
and  homeless,  asking  shelter  where  uncounted  great 


268  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

rooms  stood  empty,  yet  being  driven  out  under  the 
pitiless  sky ;  asking  leave  to  warm  their  freezing  bodies 
where  the  air  was  redolent  of  warmth  and  luxury,  and 
being  chased  off  again  into  the  bitter  wind  and  sleet ; 
asking  food,  —  what  crumbs  might  fall  from  tables 
loaded  with  delicacies  yielded  up  at  great  cost  from  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,  —  yet  turned  empty  away 
because  their  very  number  became  a  weariness. 

The  sight  of  misery  had  made  Beatrice  dread  the 
streets;  but  even  from  the  windows  it  was  not  to  be 
avoided.  As  she  looked  away  from  the  mass  of  gran 
ite,  vague  gray  amid  the  whirling  snow,  she  saw  upon 
the  sidewalk,  struggling  along  through  the  storm, 
a  woman  with  a  baby  in  her  arms,  and  a  tiny  girl  cling 
ing  to  her  fingers.  The  woman  was  looking,  with  an 
anxiety  cruel  in  its  intensity,  at  the  lower  row  of  lace- 
hung  windows.  Then,  lifting  her  eyes  to  the  second 
story,  she  caught  sight  of  Beatrice.  And,  in  that  look, 
Beatrice  saw  herself  as  she  realized  she  must  be  seen 
from  below,  —  the  very  vision  of  the  spirit  of  wealth,  as 
she  stood,  the  light  from  a  grate  of  coals  behind  her, 
draped  in  voluminous,  creamy  folds,  holding  back  the  cur 
tains  with  either  half -bared  arm  upraised.  The  mother 
stopped,  and  hesitating  there,  with  a  fearful  glance 
around  —  a  glance  which  told  of  the  many  times  she 
must  already  have  been  set  upon  by  indignant  servants 
and  bidden  begone — she  left  the  sidewalk  and  came 
upon  the  lawn.  The  snow  through  which  she  had  to 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  269 

make  her  way  was  deep.  It  came  to  the  knees  of  the 
little  girl.  The  shawl  which  covered  the  mother's 
shoulders  and  wrapped  the  baby  was  wet  through. 
So,  too,  was  her  dress,  and  that  of  the  child.  One  of 
her  hands  held  the  baby.  The  little  girl,  crying  with 
the  cold,  clung  tightly  to  the  other.  She  might  not 
reach  out  in  supplication,  and  so  she  stood,  in  the 
simplicity  of  a  misery  which  needed  no  gestures,  her 
face  upturned. 

Evelyn  Durran  had,  as  Beatrice  knew,  a  rooted  objec 
tion  to  beggars,  who  were  always  troublesome  to  ser 
vants,  and  who  were  probably  dishonest  and  worthless, 
else  charity  organizations  would  have  given  them  suc 
cor.  She  was  of  those  held  in  mind  by  he  of  Uz,  who 
had  himself  known  prosperity,  and  who  prophesied 
that  "in  the  thought  of  him  that  is  at  ease  there  is 
contempt  for  misfortune." 

There  was  nothing  to  be  done  beyond  wrapping  a 
coin  in  a  bit  of  paper  and  throwing  it  down  with  a  kind 
word. 

Having  done  this  little,  Beatrice  left  the  window  and 
went  back  into  the  sitting-room  of  the  suite  which  had 
been  put  at  her  disposal. 

She  sat  in  front  of  the  fire,  and  the  by  no  means 
cheerful  thoughts  which  came  to  her  as  she  looked  into 
the  throbbing  red  of  the  coals  were  interrupted  soon  by 
a  maid  who  brought  the  information  that  a  young  woman 
was  at  the  basement  door,  asking  to  see  Miss  Tennant. 


270  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

"Her  name,  I  was  to  say,  is  Nettie  Morton."  The  tone, 
though  coldly  respectful,  made  plain  that  annoyance 
and  disapproval  which  Evelyn  did  not  like  to  arouse. 
"  Is  she  too  wet  and  snow-covered  to  be  brought 
through  the  house?"  Beatrice  inquired.  The  maid 
was  reluctantly  of  the  opinion  that  she  was  not,  and 
Beatrice  therefore  directed  that  she  should  come  up 
stairs. 

Nettie,  warming  herself  before  the  fire,  looked  around 
the  room.  "It's  a  grand  house,  ain't  it?"  she  said  ad 
miringly  ;  "grander  than  the  one  you  had  yourself." 
She  stated  her  errand.  She  had  come  to  say  good-by. 
She  and  her  husband  were  going  away.  Her  husband, 
she  explained,  had  a  promise  of  a  position  as  street-car 
motorman  in  New  York.  "  He's  been  that  onct  before," 
she  continued.  "  It  ain't  worth  much,  —  the  pay,  — 
nothing  like  so  good  as  he  was  earning  here,  but  there 
don't  look  to  be  much  chance  of  his  getting  back  into 
the  mills.  And  our  money's  about  gone." 

Nettie  had  come  out  from  the  orphan  asylum  the 
year  before,  and  had  promptly  thereafter  married  one 
of  the  steel  workers  of  a  neighboring  plant.  It  was  not 
in  every  sense  a  good  match,  even  for  an  orphan  turned 
out  upon  the  world  to  get  her  own  living  ;  for  though 
the  young  fellow  was  willing  and  an  excellent  workman, 
he  was  unmistakably  greatly  undermined  in  health  by 
a  life  not  easy  upon  stronger  constitutions  than  his  own 
had  ever  been.  There  was,  too,  Beatrice  had  thought 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE  WORLD  271 

she  detected  upon  the  only  occasion  that  she  had  talked 
with  him,  a  slight  weakness  of  character.  This,  it 
seemed,  made  him  perhaps  the  better  loved  by  the  inde 
pendent  Nettie,  whose  instinct  for  having  some  one  to 
take  care  of  was  as  well  developed  as  during  the  child 
hood  which  had  clung  to  the  burden  of  the  baby  sister. 

The  years  had  not  much  changed  Nettie's  sharp  and 
eager  glance,  nor  indeed  her  whole  appearance.  She 
was  the  girl  of  the  sidewalks  and  the  tenement-house 
steps,  grown  older,  but  not  less  characteristic. 

She  went  on  now  to  speak  of  her  two  brothers,  who 
were  still  in  the  orphanage,  and  whom  she  wished  to 
commend  to  Miss  Tennant's  kindness.  Her  old  defi 
ance  and  dislike  of  the  latter  had  been  melted  away  by 
many  benefits  ;  and  though  she  could  not  put  gratitude 
into  words  much  better  than  of  yore,  she  felt  it  sincerely 
and  showed  it  in  her  behavior. 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  going  to  be  pretty  hard  on  my  hus 
band  —  running  the  cars  in  this  weather,"  she  reverted, 
shaking  a  head  about  which  hung  wet  wisps  of  black 
hair  which  had  come  out  of  the  frizzes  she  had  pro 
duced  at  much  pains.  The  habitual  wrinkles,  which 
a  worried  childhood  had  put  upon  her  forehead,  deep 
ened.  "  He  ain't  been  so  well  sinct  we've  been  having 
to  do  without,"  she  said.  "  But  I'm  going  to  find 
work,  too,"  she  announced  indomitably.  "It's  Neil's 
got  this  job  for  us  in  New  York,"  —  she  volunteered  the 
information  presently  —  "  and  we  thought  we'd  ought 


272  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOKLD 

to  take  it.  He  said  that  with  the  times  so  bad  it  was 
the  best  he  could  do  just  now."  Then  holding  up  one 
well-worn  and  slipshod  boot  to  the  fire  and  observing 
absently  the  much  knotted  strings  which  were  gray 
with  age,  she  asked,  "  You  ain't  never  seen  Neil  sinct 
he  got  to  be  famous,  did  you  ?  " 

Beatrice,  not  stopping  to  define  the  exact  nature  of 
fame,  answered  that  she  had  not  seen  Manning  since 
before  her  father's  death. 

"  He  asks  me  about  you  pretty  near  every  time  I  see 
him,"  Nettie  went  on,  unconsciously  disregarding  the 
fact  that  it  was  invariably  she  who  began  the  sub 
ject.  "  He  remembers  you."  She  turned  upon  Beatrice 
with  one  of  her  old,  abrupt  movements.  "  You  re 
member  him,  don't  you  ?  "  she  said. 

Beatrice  had  the  inclination  to  laugh  which  Nettie's 
untamed  manner  always  aroused  in  her.  "  Very  well 
indeed,"  she  answered. 

Nettie's  "  There  !  "  indicated  that  a  point  of  dispute 
was  settled  in  her  favor.  "  I  told  him  you  would,"  she 
said.  "I  seen  him  yesterday  and  I  asked  him  if  he 
hadn't  any  word  to  send  you,  and  he  said  you  wouldn't 
remember  him,  probably.  I  knew  you  would.  And 
anyway,  you  couldn't  forget  him  with  his  name  in 
the  papers  all  the  time."  Nettie  very  evidently  took 
pride  in  her  distant  relative. 

The  appearance  on  the  threshold  of  a  little  figure  in 
pale  blue  and  much  lace  caused  Nettie  to  rise  and  take 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE  WOULD  273 

her  departure,  answering  Beatrice's  request  that  she 
should  write,  with  a  promise  to  do  so. 

"  Where  to  will  I  write,  though  ? "  she  bethought 
herself  to  ask. 

In  the  instant  of  her  hesitation  her  homelessness 
came  to  Beatrice  with  vividness.  "  Here  —  for  the 
present,"  she  answered. 

As  the  door  shut  behind  Nettie,  Mrs.  Durran  asked, 
"  Hadn't  I  better  send  one  of  the  servants  down  with 
her  ?  "  Beatrice  gave  the  assurance  that  Nettie  would 
find  her  own  way ;  and  then,  answering  the  real 
question  which  she  knew  had  prompted  the  words, 
"  I  can  vouch  for  her,  Evelyn.  She  won't  take  any 
thing." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Few  —  none  —  find  what  they  love  or  could  have  loved, 
Though  accident,  blind  contact,  and  the  strong 
Necessity  of  loving  have  removed 
Antipathies  —  but  to  recur  ere  long 
Envenomed  with  irrevocable  wrong. 

—  Childe  Harold. 

THE  stories  of  life  are  written  with  two  inks  — 
with  the  black  of  obvious  facts,  which  all  may  read, 
and  which  gives  the  outline  that  will  suffice  for  most, 
though  much  is  left  unexplained ;  and  with  the  invis 
ible,  which  fills  in  the  blanks  and  interstices  and  is  only 
to  be  deciphered  by  those  who  can  hold  it  to  the  fire  of 
imagination  and  bring  it  out. 

But  the  light  of  Beatrice  Tenn ant's  imagination  had 
never  been  sufficient  to  enable  her  to  arrive  at  a  knowl 
edge  as  to  the  causes  which  had  led  to  the  marriage 
of  John  Durran  and  Evelyn  Woolmer.  It  was  not  to 
be  accounted  for  upon  the  theory  of  Racine  —  that  in 
extreme  disorder  of  mind  one  may  marry  whom  one 
hates  and  lose  whom  one  loves.  Durran  had  not  been 
wrought  up  to  any  such  pitch  of  recklessness  by  Bea 
trice's  ultimate  refusal  to  marry  him,  which  had  come 
to  pass  when  she  had  returned  to  the  city  after  a  year 

274 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  275 

spent  in  France  and  Italy.  He  had  not  gone  off  in 
his  desperation  and  taken  Miss  Woolmer  upon  the  re 
bound.  He  had  waited  another  full  year  before  doing  so, 
and  he  had  never  seen  fit  to  vouchsafe  to  Beatrice  the 
least  hint  whereby  she  might  gather  his  motives.  It 
was,  and  remained  to  all  who  knew  Durran  well,  one 
of  those  matches  which  are  inexplicable  by  any  rule  of 
action. 

Though  Durran  had  never  been  a  man  to  disparage 
or  speak  slightingly  of  any  woman,  Beatrice  had  always 
known  that  he  had  the  least  possible  opinion  of  Miss 
Woolmer's  mental  qualifications  along  any  line.  It 
had  been  his  habit  to  avoid  her  whenever  possible,  as 
a  young  woman  of  so  little  interest  to  him  that  time 
spent  in  her  presence  was  worse  than  wasted.  If  he 
had  never  scoffed  at  her  personally,  he  had  at  any  rate 
held  up  to  ridicule  most  of  the  things  which  Miss 
Woolmer  had  in  common  with  hundreds  of  other  girls 
of  her  class. 

Some  had  supposed  that,  having  failed  to  get 
Tennant's  money,  he  had  married  Woolmer's.  But 
Beatrice  did  not  for  an  instant  credit  that.  Wealth 
was  not  the  ultimate  good  to  Durran.  He  was  not 
especially  ambitious  to  have  great  riches,  and  at  the 
time  of  his  marriage  he  had  been  already  several  times 
a  millionnaire,  as  well  as  —  by  an  irony  of  that  Fate 
which  had  been  servile  to  Tennant  during  his  lifetime 
—  president  of  the  company  in  Tennant's  place. 


276  CAPTAINS  or  THE  WORLD 

Nor  was  Evelyn's  prettiness  of  the  sort  which  can 
turn  a  man  heedless  of  all  consequences,  of  anything 
but  possessing  it.  It  was  sweet  and  attractive,  but 
without  the  quality  of  bewitchment  ;  and  therefore, 
by  a  process  of  elimination,  Beatrice  had  only  been  able 
to  conclude  that  Durran  had  made  one  of  the  very 
marriages  against  which  he  had  once  so  strenuously 
warned  her  —  that  he  had  taken  Evelyn  for  his  wife 
because  she  loved  him. 

That  she  had  always  loved  him,  even  in  the  days 
when  his  affections  had  been  notoriously  elsewhere 
directed,  Beatrice  had  reason  to  believe  ;  and  once  the 
engagement  had  been  announced,  Evelyn  had  made  no 
attempt  to  hide  her  absorbing,  self-abnegating,  worship 
ping  devotion.  She  had  had  no  thought,  no  speech,  of 
anything  save  Durran,  and  had  frankly  said  that  to 
lose  him  would  kill  her.  And  though  Durran's  affec 
tion  had  been  of  no  such  exalted  order,  it  had  been 
sufficient  to  satisfy  her,  to  make  her  happy.  He  had 
never,  as  a  husband,  given  her  any  cause  for  complaint 
of  his  fidelity  in  thought  or  act ;  yet  there  had  been 
always  one  flaw  in  a  contentment  which  else  would 
have  been  absolute.  She  was  jealous  of  the  fact  that 
he  had  once  loved  Beatrice  Tennant  ;  that  now,  when 
he  was  with  the  latter,  he  seemed  to  have  all  manner  of 
thoughts  in  common  with  her,  which  to  Evelyn  herself 
were  incomprehensible.  Though  she  had  hugged  the 
uncertainty  as  a  comfort,  and  had,  therefore,  never 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  277 

asked,  she  believed  that  Beatrice  had  refused  her  hus 
band.  But  she  had  too  really  that  sweetness  of  dispo 
sition  which  had  always  been  ascribed  to  her,  to  allow 
herself  to  show  any  traces  of  the  jealousy.  She  was 
deeply  ashamed  of  it,  and,  by  way  of  trying  to  conquer 
it,  of  punishing  herself  for  it,  she  had  taken  every 
occasion  to  have  Beatrice  with  her,  to  show  her  little 
kindnesses  and  attentions.  She  had  even,  within  the 
last  weeks,  gone  so  far  as  to  approach  carefully  the 
subject  of  her  wish  to  make  up  to  Beatrice,  out  of  her 
own  private  fortune,  something  of  that  which  Wool- 
mer  had  been  the  cause  of  the  latter's  losing.  Beatrice 
had,  however,  put  a  check  to  that  advance. 

She  could  not  but  feel  a  certain  fondness  for  Evelyn 
Durran,  although  they  had  almost  nothing  in  common ; 
and  as  the  little  lady  in  sky-blue  and  lace  took  the 
chair  which  the  dilapidated  Nettie  had  just  left,  she 
stooped  and  kissed  her  upon  one  roseleaf  cheek. 
Though  Evelyn's  years  were  nearly  those  of  Miss 
Tennant,  and  though  she  was,  moreover,  the  mother 
of  three  children,  she  might  well  have  passed  for  a  girl 
just  leaving  school. 

She  took  Beatrice's  hand  and  drew  her  down  to  the 
other  chair,  with  a  plea  that  she  should  talk  over  her 
plans  now  and  tell  what  she  meant  to  do.  "  You  have 
been  so  busy  of  late, — what  with  your  packing  and  every 
thing,  —  I  have  not  had  the  chance  to  really  get  you  to 
myself  ;  and  John  said  that  you  had  not  confided  any- 


278  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

thing  of  importance  to  him.  But  then  a  man  never 
knows  what  we  think  important,"  —  she  added  her  bit 
of  philosophy. 

What  Beatrice  had  to  say  regarding  her  plans  seemed 
to  sum  itself  up  much  too  briefly  to  satisfy  Evelyn's 
distinctively  feminine  mind,  with  its  love  of  minute 
detail.  She  intended  to  leave  this  city  where  living 
could  not,  in  her  opinion,  be  made  pleasant  for  an 
unmarried,  homeless  woman  of  modest  means,  to  go 
to  New  York  and  interest  herself  in  some  form  of 
charity  or  settlement  work.  "  I  can  only  contribute 
my  mite,  now,"  she  said  without  bitterness  or  mani 
fested  regret,  "  but  I  can  do  the  more  effective  actual 
work,  perhaps  ;  and,"  she  smiled,  "  a  single  woman 
should  have  something  to  occupy  her  mind." 

"  Beatrice,"  said  Evelyn,  in  a  tone  inviting  confession, 
and  lifting  her  blue  eyes  coaxingly,  "  why  don't  you 
marry  ?  " 

"  But  nobody  wants  me,"  objected  Beatrice.  "  I  have 
not  even  money  to  recommend  me  any  longer  —  in  fact, 
I  haven't  had  enough  of  that  to  be  a  great  prize  in  some 
years." 

Evelyn  refused  to  entertain  the  idea  that  there  was 
need  of  wealth  to  attract  suitors  to  Beatrice.  "  Only, 
don't  you  wish  now,"  she  hazarded,  "  that  you  had  kept 
all  your  fortune  in  your  own  hands,  instead  of  having 
given  such  a  large  part  of  it  away  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Beatrice,  convincingly. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  279 

"  Surely,  though,  it  must  be  too  tantalizing  to  think 
that  there  are  millions  of  dollars  which  you  have  put 
in  trust  for  charities,  and  have  spent  on  all  your  pet 
schemes,  and  which  you  might  have  had  yourself  at 
this  very  minute  if  you  hadn't  been  so  generous." 
That  the  word  was  a  civil  synonym  for  foolish,  Beatrice 
was  aware.  "  John  should  never  have  let  you  do  it,"  his 
wife  added.  Mild  as  it  was,  it  was  the  strongest  dis 
approval  of  her  lord's  actions  that  Beatrice  had  ever 
heard  from  her. 

"  John  could  not  have  helped  himself.  I  was 
determined  to  do  it.  All  I  asked  was  his  advice  as 
to  the  best  way  —  and  his  assistance  in  following 
it." 

"  And  you  don't  regret  it  ?  "  Evelyn  insisted,  unable 
to  quite  credit  such  a  possibility. 

Beatrice  gave  another  unequivocal  negative.  She 
could  not  well  say  that  it  was  better  that  part  of  her 
fortune  should  still  be  safe  and  where  it  could  be  devoted 
to  good  ends,  than  that  it  should  have  gone,  with  the  rest 
of  what  she  had  reserved  to  herself,  for  lining  the 
pockets  of  Woolmer  and  his  colleagues. 

Evelyn  went  back  to  the  more  romantic  subject. 
"  Isn't  there  any  one  who  wants  to  marry  you  now  ?  " 
she  questioned. 

Beatrice  gave  it  as  her  best  belief  that  there  was  not. 
She  did  not  miss  the  implication  that  the  proper  refuge 
for  her  under  present  conditions  would  be  to  marry 


280  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

anybody  who  might  be  able  to  properly  support  her, 
and  who  would  take  her. 

"Dozens  of  people  must  have  wanted  you  in  the 
past  ? "  queried  Mrs.  Durran.  "  Plenty  wanted  me, 
and  I  was  never  so  lovely  as  you." 

"If  there  is  anything  in  a  truly  beautiful  modesty, 
you  must  have  been  far  more  so,"  Beatrice  told  her  in 
dulgently. 

Evelyn  denied  it  emphatically.  "  Why  didn't  you 
marry  the  prince,"  she  wanted  to  know,  "  instead  of  let 
ting  him  go  off  and  take  one  of  his  old  Italian  women  ?  " 

"  She  isn't  old,"  corrected  Beatrice,  with  wilful  mis 
understanding.  "  She  is  about  his  age,  very  charming 
and  rich,  I  understand.  As  for  why  I  didn't  marry 
him  —  I  didn't  love  him  sufficiently." 

"  I  heard,"  the  other  ventured,  "  that  every  time  you 
have  been  on  the  continent  you  have  had  suitors  —  and 
titled  ones,  too." 

Beatrice  raised  her  curved  eyebrows.  "  I  was  a  rather 
presentable,  unattached  young  woman,  with  what  was 
doubtless  reported  as  an  enormous  fortune  in  my  own 
right." 

Evelyn  did  not  like  the  unromantic  tone  of  the  con 
versation.  "  Surely  every  one  has  not  wanted  you  for 
your  fortune,"  she  reproved. 

"No,"  agreed  Beatrice,  "  I  hope  and  think  not." 

"  Is  it  that  you  have  never  been  in  love  ?  "  the  inquis 
itor  continued  ;  and  Beatrice  admitted  that  she  never 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  281 

had.  And  then,  with  pulses  fluttering  at  her  own 
temerity,  with  fear  of  what  might  be  the  reply,  Evelyn 
hazarded  a  question  which  she  hoped  might  bring  out 
the  response  that  would  end  the  jealousy  biting  at  her 
heart.  Had  any  one  ever  loved  Beatrice  herself  as 
absolutely,  as  strongly,  as  it  was  her  ideal  to  be  loved  ? 

A  shadow  of  greater  gravity  than  had  yet  shown  itself 
came  involuntarily  over  Beatrice's  face  as  she  looked 
into  the  glowing  grate.  "  Yes,"  she  answered,  "  there 
was  one  who,  I  believe,  did." 

The  jealousy  tore  cruelly  now  at  the  heart  under  the 
blue  silk  and  the  billows  of  lace.  If  Beatrice  had  been 
observing,  she  would  have  seen  the  delicate  face  con 
tracted  with  a  spasm  of  pain  at  the  unreasoned  suspicion 
that  this  "  one  "  must  be  her  own  husband,  whose  de 
votion  to  Miss  Tennant  had  certainly  been  more  appar 
ent  and  persistent  than  that  of  any  other  man.  "  Who 
was  he  ?  "  she  made  herself  ask.  The  voice  was  hardly 
to  be  heard. 

"  You  don't  know  him,  and  you  would  be  astonished 
beyond  all  measure  if  I  were  to  tell  you,"  answered 
Beatrice. 

Evelyn  was  somewhat  reassured,  and  the  reaction 
brought  a  flush  of  pleasure  to  her  cheeks.  So  long 
as  it  was  not  John,  it  did  not  matter  —  beyond,  of 
course,  a  legitimate  sentimental  interest  in  anything 
of  the  sort.  She  begged  to  be  given  at  least  a  clew, 
but  this  Beatrice  refused. 


282  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

"  Why  did  you  not  marry  him,  then  ?  "  Mrs.  Durran 
persisted. 

"  You  are  bound  to  have  me  marry,  though !  " 
laughed  Beatrice.  "  Well,  for  a  number  of  reasons  ; 
among  them  that  he  was  not  in  a  position  to  marry 
me;  and  also  that  I  did  not  care  for  him." 

The  latter  cause  was  unsatisfactory,  but  Evelyn 
scented  a  more  than  usually  delightful  situation  in 
that  the  "  one  "  had  been  not  in  a  position  to  marry 
Beatrice. 

"  Was  he  married  already  ? "  she  wanted  to  know, 
ready  to  disapprove  severely. 

Beatrice  said  that  he  was  not. 

"  Was  he  poor  ?" 

"  Comparatively,"  agreed  the  other,  non-commit- 
ally. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Evelyn,  believing  that  she  understood 
enough  for  her  purposes.  "But  then  you  didn't 
care  for  him  anyway ; "  she  derived  comfort  from  it. 

The  subject  was  not,  however,  exhausted  for  her. 
Had  this  "  one  "  lived  here  or  elsewhere  ? 

He  had  lived  here,  Beatrice  answered. 

Was  he  still  here  ? 

He  was  still  here. 

She  was  seriously  puzzled  as  to  who  it  might  be. 
"  Does  he  care  for  you  still  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Beatrice  ;  "  but  from  his 
general  character  I  think  it  quite  probable." 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE   WORLD  283 

Evelyn  clasped  her  hands  and  leaned  earnestly 
forward.  "  Do  tell  me  all  about  it,  dear,  please  ! " 
she  said. 

"You  wouldn't  fancy  the  story  at  all,"  the  latter 
put  her  off,  smilingly,  "  and,  moreover,  we  were  to  be 
at  John's  office  before  noon,  and  the  time  is  passing." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

Bad  governors  help  us — if  they  are  only  bad  enough. — EMERSON. 

"THE  principle  you  are  going  on  is  all  wrong." 
Woolmer  gave  it  as  his  opinion,  stretching  his  heavy 
body  back  in  his  chair,  his  usual  self-satisfaction  seem 
ingly  in  no  wise  disturbed  by  the  fact  that  his 
position  was  that  of  a  man  on  trial  for  fraud  upon 
a  scale  so  enormous  as  to  almost  remove  it  from  the 
category  of  crime  and  place  it  in  that  high  sphere  of 
polity  where  are  ranged  in  their  majesty,  above  the 
mere  level  of  morals,  the  acts  of  rulers  and  great 
statesmen.  "  It  is  all  wrong,"  he  reiterated.  "  The 
only  way  to  deal  with  that  class  is  to  fight  them  and 
down  them.  Every  one  of  their  leaders  are  irre 
sponsible  blatherskites,  scoundrelly  jawsmiths  making 
their  living  out  of  the  stupid  poor  fools  that  believe 
in  them.  And  the  rank  and  file  are  too  ignorant  to 
do  anything  with  —  except  shoot  them  down  if  they 
get  to  breaking  the  laws.  The  only  way  you  can  let 
sense  into  their  heads  is  through  a  bullet  hole." 

Durran  went  on  signing  a  pile  of  letters  before 
him  on  the  desk.  He  was  not  too  well  pleased  to 
see  his  father-in-law,  who  had  run  over  from  New 

284 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  285 

York  for  the  day  upon  matters  connected  with  the 
investigation  of  his  methods. 

"When  you  fraternize  with  the  union  leaders," 
Woolmer  continued,  "you  are  in  league  with  crimi 
nals  who  have  no  respect  for  the  laws  or  the  con 
stitution.  Not  one  of  them  but  is  a  scamp,  and 
every  honest  man  who  has  the  welfare  of  his  country 
at  heart  ought  to  keep  clear  of  them  —  not  only  that, 
he  ought  to  fight  them  to  the  finish." 

Durran's  finger  went  to  one  of  the  dozen  electric 
buttons  beside  his  desk.  A  secretary  answered  the 
summons,  and  took  off  the  sheaf  of  signed  letters. 

"  What,"  demanded  Woolmer,  "  is  the  use  of  an 
employers'  federation  all  over  the  country,  if  one 
of  its  chief  officers  is  going  to  take  the  stand  you've 
been  taking  all  along  —  is  going  to  get  up  fool  things 
like  this  one  next  week,  this  conference  ?  " 

"That  is  just  the  use  of  it,"  answered  his  son-in- 
law,  serenely. 

"  What  is  your  object  anyway  ? "  asked  the  older 
man,  surveying  him  with  shrewd  suspicion  in  his  star 
ing,  washed-out  blue  eyes. 

"  Well  —  "  Durran  took  his  time  —  "  do  you  hap 
pen  to  remember  how  a  great  British  statesman  once 
enunciated  the  theory  that  it  is  sometimes  necessary 
to  make  surrenders  of  what,  if  not  surrendered,  will 
be  wrested  from  us  ?  But  apart  from  that  —  on  lines 
of  ethics  rather  than  of  policy  —  it  seems  to  me  to 


286 

be  worth  while  for  those  in  our  position  to  try  to 
advance  civilization  for  a  change,  instead  of  continu 
ing  on  with  the  method  of  frantic,  outraged,  insane 
denunciation  and  condemnation  which  has  been  the 
not  very  respect-inspiring  attitude  of  the  aristocracy 
and  plutocracy  these  several  thousand  years.  There 
was  another  British  statesman  who  assured  us,  in  one 
of  the  novels  with  which  he  diverted  himself,  that 
there  is  scarcely  a  less  dignified  entity  than  a  patri 
cian  in  a  panic.  But  the  least  claim  or  move  from 
the  lower  classes,  the  least  hint  of  reform,  has  always 
managed  to  put  your  patrician  in  a  panic  where  he 
gets  beyond  reason  with  his  stampede.  We  our 
selves,  of  course,"  —  he  qualified  it,  —  "  don't  exactly 
come  under  the  head  of  patricians.  Still,  if  it  is  true 
that  'every  aristocracy  has  been  founded  on  power  over 
the  material  resources  of  life,'  we  are  something  like 
the  modern  substitute  for  the  thing.  And  I  think 
it  presents  attractions  —  the  notion  of  inaugurating 
in  our  class  a  capacity  for  arguing  with  the  labor 
class,  and  allowing  ourselves  to  be  argued  with, 
instead  of  losing  our  heads  with  consternation  and 
spluttering  out  invectives." 

"  There's  good  reason  to  be  scared ;  it's  time  we 
were,"  Woolmer  gave  it  as  his  opinion,  "when  the 
exorbitant  demands  of  a  swell-head  labor,  and  the 
princely  wages  it's  been  insisting  upon,  is  what  has 
brought  the  country  to  the  edge  of  ruin." 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  287 

Durran  looked  steadily  at  his  father-in-law,  but  the 
very  pale  blue  eyes  did  not  waver. 

"  You  make  yourself  an  accomplice  of  men  who 
have  no  respect  for  the  flag  or  the  government,  when 
you  parley  with  union  bosses."  Woolmer  repeated  a 
previous  and  a  favorite  assertion. 

"  There  are  methods  of  breaking  the  law  quite  as 
efficacious  as,  and  probably  more  insiduous  than,  split 
ting  the  skull  of  a  blackleg."  Durran  could  not  resist 
another  shaft.  "  As  for  disrespect  for  the  consti 
tuted  authorities  and  the  flag,  we  have  had  examples 
of  the  first  in  the  language  which  has  been  used  by 
representatives  of  the  moneyed  interests  to  a  chief 
executive  who  tried  to  still  the  troubled  industrial 
waters.  And  as  to  the  latter,  there  was  an  em 
ployers'  association  banquet  not  long  since,  where 
the  toast-master  is  reported  to  have  refused  to  toast 
the  Stars  and  Stripes.  I  can  hear  the  loud  cries  of 
anarchy  and  revolution  if  it  had  been  a  labor  lodge 
occurrence,"  he  added  grimly. 

An  office  boy  opened  the  door  and  coming  beside 
Durran's  chair  waited.  Durran  turned  his  head 
towards  him.  The  boy  held  out  a  card.  Durran 
glanced  at  it  and  laid  it  upon  his  desk.  "  I  will 
see  him  as  soon  as  I  am  disengaged,"  he  said.  And 
as  the  boy  went  out  he  touched  the  card  with  his 
forefinger.  "It  is  Manning,"  he  said. 

Woolmer  expressed  himself  with  a  snort,  and  made 


288  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

a  movement  preparatory  to  rising.  "  Biggest  cursed 
hypocrite  of  the  lot,"  he  passed  judgment,  "and  just 
smart  enough  to  fool  the  gullible  part  of  the  public 
by  posing  as  a  level-headed  reformer  with  a  love  of 
law  and  order.  More  dangerous  than  any  of  his  breed 
that  gets  found  out  and  can  be  locked  up  where  they 
belong,  in  the  penitentiary.  If  the  fellow  has  so 
damned  much  ability  as  they're  always  saying,  what's 
the  reason  why  he  hasn't  made  his  eternal  fortune?" 

"  Money,  you  mean,"  answered  Durran.  "  Is  that 
the  only  test  of  ability  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is,  "  asserted  Woolmer.  "  In  this  day  and 
generation,  anyway,  it  is.  If  your  goods  or  your 
powers  are  any  use,  the  world  is  going  to  pay  you 
well  for  them." 

Durran  pursed  up  his  lips.  "Then  the  history  of 
the  future  will  be  without  a  good  many  names  that 
seem  now  to  have  a  fair  chance  of  a  place  on  its  pages," 
he  said  reflectively. 

Woolmer  lifted  his  bulk  from  the  chair.  "I'll  go 
and  give  him  his  audience.  If  I  stayed,  I'd  be  tempted 
to  kick  him  out." 

"  It  would  be  the  course  of  wisdom  to  resist  temp 
tation  then,"  Durran  counselled.  "  He  is  not  sub 
missive." 

Woolmer  got  his  hat  and  coat,  then  turned  back  to 
give  his  son-in-law  a  parting  bit  of  advice.  "  Take 
the  word  of  a  man  who  is  older  than  you  are,  and 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  289 

who  has  made  a  success  in  life,  John.  Give  up  this 
thing  of  trying  to  make  a  silk  purse  out  of  a  sow's 
ear.  Keep  this  federation  of  ours  what  it  ought  to 
be,  —  a  combination  to  fight  and  bust  up  the  unions. 
Don't  try  to  mix  yourself  with  conciliation.  The 
employer  has  got  his  rights  and  it's  ridiculous  for  him 
to  be  asking  walking  delegates  what  he  can  be  allowed 
to  do,  letting  the  workman  dictate  what  wages  and 
terms  he  is  going  to  work  for.  We  want  to  make  this 
national  organization  strong  enough  so  that  we  can 
tell  the  laborer  to  take  the  terms  we  see  fit  to  give 
him,  or  go  to  Sheol."  He  held  out  his  hand  and 
shook  Durran's  with  the  heartiness  of  encouragement. 
"  Tell  Evelyn  I  couldn't  lunch  with  her  anyway — 
got  another  engagement.  But  I'll  be  out  this  after 
noon  before  I  take  the  train  back." 

"  Miss  Tennant  is  staying  with  us,"  said  Durran. 
It  had  the  note  of  a  suggestion. 

"She  is?"  said  Woolmer.  "Why's  that?  Ain't 
she  got  a  house  of  her  own  ?  " 

As  Durran  had  long  known,  Woolmer  did  not 
fancy  Beatrice.  "  She  has  had  to  sell  it.  Her  money 
has  been  practically  all  lost  in  this  fall  of  stocks." 

Woolmer  was  untouched.  "  That  so  ? "  he  said 
indifferently.  "  That's  what  comes  of  her  spending 
all  she  did  for  a  set  of  people  who'll  never  thank  her 
for  it  and  never  profit  by  it.  When  women  get  fool 
ing  with  organized  charities  and  factory  and  labor 


290  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

legislation  and  all  kinds  of  wild  economic  schemes, 
they  ought  to  be  put  under  guardianship.  If  Miss 
Tennant  had  married  like  a  sensible  girl,  and  kept  her 
self  occupied  with  things  that  do  for  the  female  mind, 
children  and  parties  and  all  that,  her  husband  would 
have  looked  after  her  interests  and  she'd  have  been 
a  rich  woman  to-day.  She  wanted  to  be  emancipated 
and  strong-minded,  and  she's  gotten  her  deserts."  His 
satisfaction  in  this  suitable  judgment  of  Providence 
was  evident.  "  Tennant,"  he  gave  it  as  his  verdict, 
"  was  usually  a  sensible  man,  but  he  made  a  mistake 
in  setting  the  girl  at  a  lot  of  charity  work  that  turned 
her  head.  I  never  let  Evelyn  mix  up  with  anything 
of  the  sort.  She  got  a  touch  of  the  craze  once, — 
caught  it  from  Miss  Tennant  I  guess.  But  I  cured 
her  of  it  in  a  hurry." 

He  repeated  his  message.  "  Tell  the  little  girl  I'll 
see  her  this  afternoon."  Woolmer,  whose  son  was  a 
ne'er-do-weel,  a  drunkard,  and  generally  a  disappoint 
ment,  concentrated  upon  his  daughter  a  good  deal  of 
pride  and  affection. 

******* 
It  had  been  principally  through  the  influence  of 
Manning  with  his  own  people,  and  through  what  had 
had  to  be  the  much  more  strenuous  efforts  of  Durran 
with  his,  that  there  had  been  brought  about  the 
definite  arrangements  for  the  conference  of  delegates 
representing  the  two  federations  of  employers  and 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  291 

of  labor.  These,  during  the  following  fortnight,  were 
to  be  gathered  together  from  the  ends  of  the  country, 
bringing  with  them  full  powers  for  arriving  at  any 
temporary  or  permanent  arrangements  tending  toward 
peace  and  good  understanding. 

Manning  and  Durran  had  worked  together  to  the 
end  for  close  upon  two  years,  and  had  necessarily  seen 
much  of  one  another.  Since  the  conference  was  to 
begin  upon  the  following  Monday,  there  were  still  a 
number  of  final  plans  to  be  talked  over,  and  directly 
Manning  came  into  the  office,  they  fell  to  the  discus 
sion.  Their  speech  was  such  as  wasted  neither  words 
nor  time,  the  speech  of  men  of  multifarious  concerns,  — 
concise,  definite,  to  the  point.  But  there  was  much  to 
be  gone  over,  and  they  were  still  in  the  midst  of  dis 
cussion  when  the  door  of  the  office  was  opened  and  the 
buttoned  sentinel,  in  obedience  to  orders  previously 
given  by  Durran,  stood  aside  to  allow  the  entrance  of 
two  women. 

Manning  turned  his  head  in  their  direction,  in  his 
look  the  abstraction  of  one  who  is  thinking  of  some 
thing  other  than  that  which  interrupts  him.  He  was 
half  absently  aware  of  a  small,  slight  figure  in  gray, 
and,  following  it,  a  taller  one  in  tan  and  sables.  Then 
his  eyes  met  those  of  Beatrice  Tennant. 

He  had  risen  to  his  feet.  And  he  bowed  in  silent 
acknowledgment  as  Durran  made  known  his  wife  — 
whose  smile  though  sweet  showed  unmistakable  uncer- 


292  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOELD 

tainty  as  to  the  degree  of  cordiality  to  be  shown  to  a 
labor  leader.  She  turned  aside,  looking  in  some  em 
barrassment  for  a  chair  which  she  might  take. 

Beatrice  had  moved  forward,  and  now  she  put  out  a 
gloved  hand,  warm  from  the  depths  of  the  muff  from 
which  she  had  drawn  it.  Nothing  could  have  been 
more  natural  than  the  friendliness  of  her  reminder  that 
she  and  Manning  had  known  each  other  long  ago. 
And  the  answer,  in  Manning's  deep  tones,  that  she  was 
very  good  to  remember  him,  was  formal  and  common 
place  enough.  Yet,  over  the  two  faces  the  shadow  of 
some  shared  memory  passed  and  was  gone.  Durran, 
watching  them,  saw  it. 

Beatrice  stood  speaking  to  Manning,  and  Durran 
drawing  out  his  watch  looked  at  it.  Then  his  glance 
consulted  his  wife.  It  was  still  early  —  could  she  and 
Beatrice  wait  while  he  and  Manning  finished  their 
business? 

Mrs.  Durran  agreed,  and  Beatrice,  putting  back  the 
furs,  on  which  lay  the  bright  drops  of  melting  snow- 
flakes,  sank  into  a  big,  red  leather  chair  near  the  one 
that  Manning  had  left  and  to  which  he  now  went  back. 

During  the  next  twenty  minutes  —  which  seemed 
to  her  three  times  as  long —  Evelyn  Durran  heard  talk 
of  differentials,  of  minimum  and  living  wage,  of 
trade  agreements,  of  injunctions,  of  limiting  of  appren 
tices  and  output,  of  arbitration,  —  all  the  nomenclature 
and  phraseology  of  a  world  which  made  her  own  exist- 


CAPTAINS   OP   THE  WORLD  293 

ence  possible,  which  was  its  foundation,  its  supporting 
structure,  yet  in  which  she  took  no  slightest  interest, 
and  of  which  she  was  hardly  aware,  nor  desired  to  be. 
She  watched  Manning  at  first  with  some  curiosity. 
She  had  heard  her  husband  speak  of  him.  But  he  was 
not  what  she  would  have  expected  to  see  had  she  ever 
given  the  matter  thought.  Except,  she  reflected,  that  he 
was  certainly  a  more  fine  physical  type  than  most  of  the 
men  she  knew,  he  was  otherwise  not  noticeably  different 
from  them.  There  were,  in  fact,  a  number  among  her 
social  acquaintances  who  would  not  have  benefited  by 
contrast ;  but  he  was  only,  after  all,  a  union  leader, — 
president,  or  some  such  thing,  —  and  therefore  worse 
really  than  a  mere  workingman  who  minded  his  own 
business  and  did  not  go  about  meddling  in  that  of  his 
superiors. 

To  Beatrice  it  seemed  that  the  time  had  changed  him 
not  a  little,  —  a  change  which  was,  at  least  outwardly, 
one  of  unmixed  improvement.  His  face,  more  lined, 
more  thin,  showed  deeply  the  marks  of  thought  and 
strain  and  work.  His  manner  gave  more  than  ever  a 
sense  of  concentration,  of  force.  And  he  looked  older 
than  she  knew  him  to  be.  He  might  easily  have  been 
supposed  more  than  five-and-thirty.  She  had  known 
him  too  well  in  the  past  not  to  be  very  sure  now  that, 
though  he  did  not  look  at  her  and  was  talking  to  Dur- 
ran  as  if  he  had  no  concern  but  the  subjects  under 
discussion,  the  fact  of  her  presence  was  beneath  it  all, 


CAPTAINS    OP   THE   WORLD 

that  of  which  he  was  most  intensely  conscious.  In  the 
first  meeting  of  their  glance  as  she  had  come  into  the 
office,  she  had  seen  that  what  she  had  been  for  him 
seven  years  before,  she  was  to-day.  Of  his  life  follow 
ing  upon  his  departure  from  Staunton  she  knew  only 
what  Nettie  had  told  her  and  what  she  had  read  —  that 
he  had  continued  to  work  in  a  steel  plant  until,  being 
sent  as  delegate  to  a  convention,  he  had  been  elected  a 
union  officer.  That  he  had  before  long  made  himself  the 
one  possible  man  for  the  presidency  of  the  union,  and 
that  since  his  election  his  position  in  the  industrial 
world  had  become,  almost  at  once,  considerably  more 
prominent  than  his  mere  official  status  implied.  He 
had  handled  situations  of  immense  importance  to  the 
entire  country,  and  for  the  most  part  to  the  country's 
satisfaction.  The  weight  of  his  words  had  thrown  the 
scale  in  more  than  one  conference,  and  he  had  dealt  in 
person  with  a  large  number  of  the  nation's  leading  men, 
in  many  walks  of  life.  Its  chief  executive  had  sum 
moned  him  in  conference,  and  lesser  dignitaries  had 
found  themselves  requiring  his  advice.  He  had  even 
been  spoken  of  as  a  possibility  for  a  place  of  im 
portance  in  the  government,  during  the  next  ad 
ministration.  The  head  of  the  company  which  not 
a  decade  before  had  turned  him  out  of  its  employ 
as  a  trouble-breeder  sat  now  giving  close  attention 
to  what  he  had  to  say  —  for  the  most  part  con 
curring  in  it. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD  295 

When  Manning  stood  up  to  go,  he  walked  to  Dur- 
ran's  desk  and  leaned  his  arm  upon  the  top  of  it,  listen 
ing  to  some  final  comments  of  the  latter.  "  I  will  be 
away  for  the  remainder  of  the  time  between  now  and 
next  Monday,"  he  said,  when  Durran  had  finished.  "  I 
have  got  to  go  over  to  New  York  to  testify  against  Mr. 
Woolmer  and  to  attend  to  'some  other  matters  that 
have  come  up."  He  would,  however,  he  added,  be  back 
by  Sunday  night,  and  if  there  should  be  anything  about 
which  Durran  might  wish  to  see  him,  he  would  be  glad 
to  be  sent  for. 

He  took  his  leave  of  Mrs.  Durran,  with  merely 
another  inclination  of  the  head.  And  this  time  Evelyn 
barely  answered  it,  and  did  not  soften  her  rigidity  with 
the  slightest  smile.  Manning  was  not  unconscious  of 
her  manner.  It  had  been  a  part  of  his  experience  to 
have  met  with  the  same  thing  very  frequently.  He 
turned  to  Beatrice.  "  I  and  many  of  those  for  whom 
I  am  working  feel  that  we  have  a  great  deal  to 
thank  you  for,  Miss  Tennant,"  he  told  her  gravely. 
"  In  my  own  opinion  no  money  has  ever  been  better 
spent  than  yours  in  the  interests  of  the  working 
classes." 

Beatrice's  look  toward  Durran  drew  him  into  the 
subject.  It  was  he,  she  answered,  who  was  chiefly 
responsible  —  who  had  been  the  head,  if  not  the 
hand.  Durran  disclaimed  more  than  a  very  limited 
responsibility. 


296  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

When  Manning  had  gone  Evelyn  turned  to  her 
husband,  flushed  and  with  angry  tears  in  her  blue 
eyes.  She  expressed  indignantly  a  far  from  com 
plimentary  opinion  of  Manning.  He  had  had  no 
business  to  speak  as  he  had  done  of  her  father  in  her 
own  presence.  "  But,  my  dear  little  woman,"  objected 
Durran,  inwardly  rather  inclined  to  find  it  amusing, 
"you  must  remember  that  there  are  spheres  into 
which  it  does  not  penetrate  that  I  was  so  fortunate 
as  to  have  married  Woolmer's  daughter  —  and  in 
which  the  information  would  not  carry  much  weight 
if  it  did.  You  may  be  sure  that  Manning  is  totally 
unaware  of  the  momentous  fact."  Even  this  much 
of  gentle  irony  —  which  was  quite  lost  upon  Evelyn 
as  such  —  was  more  than  Beatrice  had  ever  heard 
from  him  before.  But  Durran  had  been  annoyed 
at  the  manner  in  which  she  had  taken  the  introduc 
tion  to  Manning  in  the  first  place,  and  had  not  been 
able  to  avoid  contrasting  it  with  that  of  Beatrice 
Tennant. 

From  the  height  of  her  displeasure,  and  of  a  fash 
ionable  education  which  had  left  her  proficient  in 
no  one  practical  or  ornamental  line,  Evelyn  spoke. 
"I  suppose,"  she  said,  "it  is  the  kind  of  thing  one 
must  expect  if  one  descends  to  dealing  with  ignorant 
people  like  that." 


CHAPTER   XXV 

Men  are  drawn  together,  not  by  ideas,  but  by  interests. 

—  DE  TOCQUEVILLE.     Democracy  in  America. 

DURING  the  days  of  Beatrice  Tennant's  visit,  Evelyn 
had  not  found  that,  in  bringing  it  about,  she  had 
reaped  a  reward  in  any  lessening  of  the  jealousy  she 
had  tried  sincerely  to  force  into  subjection.  More 
than  ever  before  there  had  been  made  evident  to  her 
the  lack  of  companionship  between  herself  and  her 
husband.  He  listened  kindly  to  the  small  chatter 
which  she  tried  so  hard  to  make  entertaining,  the 
talk  of  the  babies,  of  the  novel  she  was  reading,  of 
their  friends.  She  felt  that  he  had  no  real  pleasure 
in  it  all,  and  realized  helplessly  that  the  little 
abstract  ideas  she  thought  up  and  enunciated  fell, 
in  some  way,  weak  and  flat.  She  felt  as  might  some 
unfortunate,  feeble,  or  disabled  dog,  faithfully  but 
fruitlessly  making  valiant  attempts  to  follow  the 
master  that  it  loves.  And  though  she  did  her  best 
not  to  allow  herself  to  be  angry  with  Beatrice,  she 
could  not  help  a  resentful  thought  that  it  was  heed 
less  and  ungenerous  of  the  latter  to  monopolize  the 
conversation  with  John,  and  keep  it  nearly  always 

297 


298  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

in  what  might  nearly  as  well  have  been  a  foreign 
and  incomprehensible  tongue. 

It  was,  too,  heedless  and  ungenerous  of  her  husband 
not  to  see  that  she  was  being  left  out  in  the  cold, 
not  to  feel  for  her  loneliness.  She  kept  a  brave 
front  in  their  presence,  but  when  she  was  alone  she 
cried  very  bitterly.  Then  from  her  spirit's  travail  was 
born  a  resolve  to  spare  no  effort  to  bring  herself,  to  force 
herself,  to  take  an  interest  in  at  least  some  of  these 
heavy,  abstruse  topics  which  were  so  incomprehensively 
absorbing  to  John  and  Beatrice.  But  how,  in  a 
dozen  years,  could  she  know  even  a  little  of  all  that 
they  appeared  to  know  —  the  history,  the  biography, 
the  talk  of  art  and  literature,  the  philosophy  ?  She 
opened  a  book  which  Beatrice  and  her  husband  had 
been  speaking  of  the  night  before,  and  determinedly 
read  several  pages.  Then  she  cried  again  because 
the  long  sentences  had  meant  absolutely  nothing  to 
her.  Most  of  the  words  she  knew  —  but  put  together 
as  they  were  they  did  not  carry  the  slightest  thought. 
Yet  that  which  was  too  hard  for  her  in  books  might 
become  easier  for  her  in  speech.  And  she  therefore 
announced  to  her  husband  that  it  was  her  intention 
to  go  to  the  conference. 

His  look  of  questioning  astonishment  hurt  her. 
"But  why  should  you  do  that,  Evelyn?"  he  asked. 

Was  it  so  unnatural  for  her  to  take  an  interest  in 
that  which  was  of  interest  to  him  ?  she  countered.  She 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  299 

was  not,  after  all,  a  child.  He  was  too  appreciative 
of  the  motive  to  gratify  his  inclination  to  smile.  "If 
Beatrice  can  go,  why  should  not  I  ?  "  she  asked  plaint 
ively. 

He  humored  her  with  the  assurance  that  she  might. 

And  upon  the  Monday  morning,  shortly  before  ten 
o'clock,  he  met  her  and  Beatrice  as  they  stepped  from 
the  carriage  in  front  of  the  building  in  which  the  con 
ference  was  to  be  held. 

It  was  a  structure,  one  floor  of  which  was  devoted 
to  the  rooms  of  the  Board  of  Trade,  and  to  a  large 
assembly  hall. 

As  they  left  the  elevator,  Durran  bade  them  wait 
for  him.  He  went  into  the  hall  and  came  back  with 
the  information  that  there  would  be  some  minutes  yet 
before  the  conference  would  be  called  to  order,  and 
that  he  could  take  them  to  their  seats  in  the  gallery. 

"  Are  they  reserved  for  us  ?  "  asked  Evelyn,  who 
was  accustomed  to  privilege. 

He  shook  his  head.     None  of  them  were  reserved. 

Evelyn  showed  that  she  was  doubtful  as  to  her 
approval  of  this,  but  she  followed  up  the  stairs  to  the 
balcony.  A  number  of  men  were  already  there,  but 
very  few  women.  Durran  got  them  seats  in  the  first 
row,  then  sat  down  beside  them  and  fell  to  pointing 
out,  as  they  came  into  the  hall  below,  different  men 
whose  names  were  prominent  in  the  world  of  industry. 

"  That  fellow  there,  by  the  end  of  the  third  row  — 


300  CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD 

the  one  with  the  gorilla-like  length  of  arm  and  the  big, 
pallid  features,"  he  indicated,  "he  is  Lockhart." 

Beatrice  knew  him  to  be  a  high  official  of  the  union. 

"  He  is  the  biggest  blackmailing,  bribe-taking  scoun 
drel  out  of  jail,  in  my  opinion,"  Durran  went  on  to 
recount.  "  And  he  leads  a  cabal  that  works  against 
Manning  and  his  intentions  by  any  methods  that  it 
thinks  can  be  made  efficacious  to  harm  him  or  them. 
Victory  isn't  by  any  means  always  to  the  most  honest 
in  the  short  run,  and  in  my  opinion  they  are  likely  to 
succeed  in  downing  Manning  before  long.  Lockhart 
has  a  large  following  upon  his  own  part.  There  is  as 
big  a  percentage  of  laboring  men  who  have  an  affinity 
for  the  scamp  leader,  as  there  is  of  voters  who  favor 
the  rascally  politician.  It  is  quite  possible,  from  what 
I  gather,  that  Manning  may  be  defeated  at  the  next 
election  and  Lockhart  get  the  presidency.  And  there 
is  ground  for  suspicion  that  there  are  represented  in 
this  hall,  at  the  present  moment,  employers  who  are  fur 
nishing  Lockhart  funds  for  his  work  against  Manning 
—  ones  who  would  like  nothing  better  than  to  see  a 
formidable  and  unimpeachable  fellow  like  the  latter  go 
under  for  a  mighty  bad  representative  of  the  cause  like 
Lockhart." 

Presently,  as  usual,  he  was  talking  to  Beatrice,  and 
forgetting  even  to  include  Evelyn  in  the  sharing  of  his 
thoughts,  though  she  was  bending  toward  him  and 
listening  valiantly  to  what  he  had  to  say. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  301 

"  There  are  a  good  many  who  are  down  upon  Man 
ning  on  general  principles,"  he  told  Beatrice.  "  Some 
one  only  this  morning  was  talking  to  me  in  one  of  the 
offices  here,  and  he  called  him  a  Jack  Cade  who  prom 
ised  '  seven  halfpenny  loaves  for  a  penny  and  all  the 
realm  in  common.'  But  in  point  of  fact,  he  is  quite 
sane,  and  as  impartial  as  one  could  expect.  The  ab 
solutely  impartial  man  never  yet  furthered  his  cause 
very  greatly,  I  fancy.  There  are  some  few  matters 
upon  which  we  don't  agree  —  open  shop  and  incorpora 
tion,  for  instance.  Manning  won't  compromise  upon 
the  open  shop  if  he  can  help  himself  —  holds  that  it  is 
impossible  to  the  unions  from  a  business  standpoint  — 
that  they  can't  keep  agreements  and  discipline  properly 
in  open  shops.  Probably  there  is  something  in  it,  but 
we  can't  be  expected  to  give  in  if  we  can  avoid  doing 
so.  As  for  incorporation  —  he  makes  out  a  pretty 
good  case  for  it,  that  it  is  absolutely  unsafe  for  them, 
at  the  present  anyway.  So  long  as  you  can  point  to 
our  penitentiaries  as  containing  thousands  of  poor  men 
and  practically  never  a  rich  one  (and  it's  no  argument 
for  the  superior  virtue  of  the  plutocracy,  either)  — 
so  long  as  that  is  the  case,  so  long  as  money  interests 
can  defeat  an  excellent  thing  like  the  eight-hour 
law  in  Congress  —  just  for  that  length  of  time  unions 
have  a  good  deal  of  justification  in  refusing  to  in 
corporate." 

His   eyes   were   looking   over   the   hall,  and  as   the 


302  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD 

swinging  doors  at  the  end  opened  and  admitted  two 
men,  he  pointed  out  one  of  them. 

"  That  is  the  president  of  the  labor  federation,"  he 
told  them.  "He  ranks  Manning  officially,  of  course  — 
but  he  is  not,  in  fact,  the  force  that  the  latter  is." 

He  reverted  to  the  question  of  Manning's  views. 
"  I  believe  he  intends  to  take  as  strong  a  stand  as 
the  occasion  will  warrant  against  limitation  of  out 
put.  He  means  to  take  it  for  his  text  that,  as  wealth 
is  not  the  possession  of  coin  but  of  goods,  without 
restriction  of  output  upon  Bither  side,  the  coin  value 
of  the  individual  might  and  doubtless  would  lessen, 
but  actual  wealth  would  increase.  The  theory  is 
not  new,  of  course,  but  bona  fide  action  upon  it 
would  be." 

He  left  the  seat  beside  them  and  stood  with  his 
hand  upon  the  rail.  "  You  are  to  take  this  conference 
seriously,  both  of  you,"  he  admonished,  smiling.  "  It 
may  seem  a  small  gathering  of  commonplace  men ; 
but  in  reality  it  is  significant  of  one  of  the  greatest 
changes  in  the  face  of  history.  That  it  has  become 
possible  for  the  laborer  and  the  employer  to  meet 
on  such  terms  as  this,"  his  hand  swept  over  the  floor 
below,  "  is  the  one  new  thing  under  the  sun,  the  one 
thing  which  distinguishes  this  age  from  any  other 
since  the  days  when  the  gates  of  Eden  were  shut 
against  the  toiler." 

As  he   turned  away  he  looked  affectionately  down 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  303 

at  his  wife,  whose  eyes  were  upturned,  fond  and  ador 
ing,  to  his  face.  "  I  am  afraid  you  are  going  to 
find  the  time  dull  and  heavy,  little  person,"  he  said, 
without  the  least  suspicion  of  the  hurt  he  was 
giving. 

Yet  the  words  were  prophetic,  for  it  seemed  to 
Evelyn  that  the  two  hours  until  noon  were  the  long 
est  she  had  ever  spent.  For  all  her  firm  resolve 
she  could  not  keep  her  attention  upon  the  proceed 
ings  and  speeches.  Her  eyes  wandered  to  the  figures 
of  the  women  in  the  balcony.  There  were  more  of 
them  now  than  there  had  been  at  first  —  and  some 
whom  she  knew,  which  was  comforting  to  what  had 
before  been  an  uneasy  sense  that  she  was  running 
the  risk  of  making  herself  appear  odd  and  peculiar 
in  the  eyes  of  her  friends.  She  called  Beatrice's 
attention  to  a  woman  who  was  also  in  the  first  row 
of  seats,  but  a  little  distance  away  from  themselves. 
"  Her  face  is  so  coarse  —  though  it  looks  as  if  she 
might  have  been  very  handsome  once,  does  it  not?" 
she  asked.  "  And  isn't  that  dark  red  hair  the  most 
magnificent  thing  you  ever  saw?  " 

Beatrice  recognized  her  for  the  woman  whom  she 
had  met  once  in  Lester's  office,  and  who  had  mani 
fested  an  intentional  insolence.  "  It  is  a  Mrs.  Kem- 
ble,"  she  told  Evelyn.  "  She  was  the  wife  of  a 
workman  who  used  to  be  at  Staunton." 

After  the  Kembles  had  gone  away  from  the  town, 


304  CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD 

Lester  had  heard  of  them  several  times,  and  had 
told  Beatrice  of  them.  Kemble,  it  seemed,  had  been 
the  victim  either  of  the  black-list  or  of  his  age  and 
bad  health.  Whichever  it  was,  he  had  been  unable 
to  obtain  employment  in  any  mills  upon  any  terms, 
and  finally,  driven  from  every  thronged  gate  where 
he  had  sought  employment,  he  had  died  where  he 
had  lain  himself  to  rest  upon  the  grass  of  a  city 
park. 

But  long  before  that  his  wife  had  abandoned  him. 
What  had  become  of  her,  Beatrice  had  never  before 
known.  Evidently  she  had  prospered,  for  she  wore 
a  good  deal  of  showy  jewellery  and  a  dress  which 
had  probably  been  expensive.  But  her  face  had  the 
traces  of  a  hard  life.  While  Manning  spoke  she 
watched  him  intently.  Beatrice  recalled  what  Lester 
had  told  her  of  his  speculations  as  to  Mrs.  Kemble's 
sentiments  toward  the  young  steel  worker. 

When  the  conference  adjourned  at  the  noon  hour, 
Beatrice  and  Evelyn  made  their  way  with  the  others 
down  from  the  balcony  to  the  main  floor.  Durran 
met  them  with  the  request  that  they  should  wait  for 
him  a  few  minutes.  He  would  take  them  into  the 
directors'  room  of  the  Board  of  Trade  offices,  and  come 
back  for  them. 

The  directors'  room  was  large  and  comfortably  fur 
nished.  There  were  a  number  of  others  waiting  — 
among  them  two  women  and  several  men  whom  both 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  305 

Evelyn  Durran  and  Beatrice  knew.  They  gathered 
together  in  one  corner.  But  before  long  Beatrice 
moved  away  alone,  in  order  to  look  at  a  framed  draw 
ing  upon  the  wall,  an  architect's  sketch  of  a  library 
which  Woolmer  was  to  give  to  the  city.  It  hung 
just  beside  the  door  which  led  into  the  corridor,  and 
as  Beatrice  stood  in  front  of  it,  the  knob  was  turned 
and  some  one  came  in.  She  raised  her  eyes  to  see 
who  it  might  be,  and  found  herself  face  to  face  with 
Manning.  He  made  as  if  to  stop,  but  at  the  same 
instant  and  by  the  same  involuntary  motion,  she  drew 
a  little  aside  that  he  might  pass. 

Evidently  taking  it  as  an  indication  that  she  wished 
him  to  do  so  at  once,  he  merely  answered  her  good 
morning  and  would  have  gone  on.  With  an  impulse 
which  she  had  no  time  to  reason,  which  she  only 
felt  as  a  desire  to  keep  him  for  a  moment,  and  not 
to  have  him  feel  a  slight  she  had  by  no  means  meant, 
she  spoke  to  him  —  a  comment  on  the  proceedings 
of  the  morning,  and  one  which  it  seemed  to  her,  as 
she  made  it,  was  too  trivial  to  be  worth  the  making. 
He  turned  to  her,  answering,  and  they  stood  together 
talking  of  the  conference  and  its  prospects.  Yet, 
though  she  questioned  and  replied  and  gave  opin 
ions  not  unintelligently,  she  was  in  reality  thinking 
less  of  the  conference  than  of  himself — of  having 
some  opportunity  to  talk  with  him  'about  things  more 
personal  than  the  speeches  of  captains  of  industry. 


306  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

There  was  much  which  she  wanted  to  know  of  his 
life  in  the  past  seven  years,  which  she  wanted  to 
know  from  him,  and  not  from  Lester  or  Durran  or 
Nettie  Morton.  And  the  chance  might  never  offer 
again.  If  it  were  to  be  improved  now,  it  would 
have  to  be  she  who  should  make  the  first  step.  He 
himself  would  not  do  it. 

Not  far  from  where  they  stood,  and  on  the  farther  side 
of  the  long  and  narrow  room,  two  unoccupied  chairs 
were  drawn  near  together.  Beatrice  glanced  toward 
them.  But  she  hesitated.  Then,  annoyed  with  her 
self  for  a  diffidence,  a  self-consciousness  as  to  her 
motives  so  entirely  unlike  her  usual  simplicity  of 
thought  and  action,  she  made  herself  meet  the  pene 
trating  and  steady  look  before  which  she  seemed  to  let 
her  eyes  sink  in  spite  of  herself.  "If  you  have  the 
time  to  spare  for  it,"  she  said  to  him,  "  I  should  like 
very  much  to  have  you  tell  me  a  little  of  what  you  have 
done  since  I  saw  you  last."  She  knew  that  the  refer 
ence  brought  a  deep  blush  over  her  face,  and  that  he 
was  seeing  it. 

He  had  come  with  the  purpose  of  finding  and  speak 
ing  to  a  man  who  was  now  standing  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  long  table  used  for  directors'  meetings.  But  he 
went  with  Beatrice. 

Evelyn  Durran's  words  stopped  in  the  midst  of  a 
sentence  as  she  saw  Beatrice  Tennant  leading  the  way 
to  where  two  chairs  were  drawn  up  side  by  side,  and 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  307 

sitting  there,  fall  into  earnest  conversation  with  a  man 
who  had  been  a  mill  worker  and  was  now  a  labor  leader. 
One  of  the  millionnaire  employers  in  Evelyn's  own 
group  had  been  a  mill  worker  also,  —  but  his  present 
was  such  as  to  have  effaced  the  stigma  so  completely 
that  she  forgot  it. 

So  real  was  her  disapproval  of  what  Beatrice  had 
done,  that  when  they  were  at  home  again,  and  alone 
together,  she  undertook  to  remonstrate  with  the  latter. 
"After  all,  dear,"  she  said,  "I  am  a  married  woman, 
you  know,  and  so  naturally  I  can  judge  better  than  you 
of  a  good  many  things.  And  it  doesn't  look  well  for 
you  to  be  seen  talking  to  the  man  who  was  accused  of 
having  killed  your  father.  Probably,"  she  went  on,  as 
one  determined  to  be  not  only  fair,  but  magnanimous, 
divesting  herself  of  anything  that  might  be  held  as  un 
justifiable  class  prejudice,  — "  probably  he  is  a  very  good, 
honest  sort  of  man,  in  spite  of  his  rudeness  about  papa. 
But  still,  there  is  no  escaping  the  fact  that  he  is  really 
about  the  same  as  a  common  workingman  —  and  you 
can't  treat  that  kind  of  person  as  an  equal." 

Beatrice  let  pass  unchallenged  the  superiority  of 
judgment  inherent  in  and  resulting  from  the  marital 
condition.  Evelyn  was  wont  to  observe  that  no  woman 
was  able  to  understand  the  meaning  of  life  and  the 
world  who  had  not  seen  them  through  the  eyes  of  a 
husband  and  the  souls  of  her  children.  Lacking  these 
media  of  vision,  these  intensifying,  broadening,  and  en- 


308  CAPTAINS  OF  THE  WORLD 

lightening  lenses  of  the  intelligence,  she  resigned  her 
self  to  accept  as  best  she  might  the  spinster's  limited 
outlook  upon  even  questions  seemingly  remote  from 
marriage  and  child-bearing. 

"  But  Neil  Manning  did  not  kill  my  father,  Evelyn," 
she  reminded,  more  than  a  little  severely. 

"Still,"  Evelyn  insisted,  "he  was  accused  of  it, 
you  must  admit."  She  clearly  had  hold  of  a  point  she 
did  not  mean  to  relinquish  or  be  induced  to  give  up. 
Beatrice  had  tried  to  deal  with  her  under  similar  condi 
tions  before,  and  she  had  learned  enough  wisdom  to 
abandon  it  now. 

She  took  up  the  last  implication.  "Wherein  is  he 
not  my  equal  ?  "  she  asked. 

Mrs.  Durran  studied  her  in  perplexity.  There  are 
some  things  the  very  obviousness  of  which  makes 
explanation  of  them  all  but  impossible.  And  that 
Beatrice  should  ask  explanation  of  this  one  argued 
either  that  she  was  becoming  a  little  less  than  sane, 
or  that  she  was  trying  to  tease.  Mrs.  Durran  pre 
ferred  to  put  the  latter  interpretation  upon  it.  "  It 
is  hardly  fair  to  make  fun  of  me  when  I  am  trying 
to  tell  you  things  for  your  own  sake,  Beatrice,"  she 
reproached. 

Beatrice  denied  that  she  was  doing  so.  "I  am  in 
earnest,  though,"  she  insisted.  "I  should  like  to  know 
some  really  valid  reason  for  thinking  myself  superior  to 
him." 


CAPTAINS  OF  THE  WORLD  309 

"But  your  social  position — "  protested  Mrs.  Durran, 
almost  hopelessly. 

"  What  is  it  based  on  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Not  birth,  very 
certainly.  Money?  That  is  a  vulgar  sort  of  test,  it 
seems  to  me.  And  besides,  I  fancy  I  am  rather  inclined 
to  take  Goethe's  view  of  such  things  as  claims  to  supe 
riority  upon  the  grounds  of  money  I  didn't  even  make 
for  myself — and  couldn't.  And  still,  besides,"  she 
smiled,  "  I  haven't  any  money,  not  as  much  as  he  has,  I 
dare  say." 

"  Your  education — "  said  Evelyn.  She  believed  that 
at  any  rate  education  was  a  thing  which  Beatrice  held 
in  too  much  respect  to  treat  with  levity  and  indifference. 

"  I'm  afraid  it  wouldn't  compare  favorably  with  his 
in  either  depth  or  extent,"  was  the  answer. 

"Oh!  very  well,"  Evelyn  took  it  with  a  slight  show 
of  losing  her  sweet  temper,  "but — should  you  like  to 
invite  him  as  a  guest  to  your  table  ?  "  Her  accent  was 
that  of  triumph  at  a  clinching  proof  of  the  validity  of 
her  position. 

"  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  replied  Beatrice,  "  far 
rather  than  a  half-dozen  I  could  name  who  are  honored 
at  our  boards.  Do  you  think  he  eats  with  his  knife 
and  drinks  his  coffee  from  his  saucer  ?  He  does  not,  I 
give  you  my  word." 

Evelyn  flushed  hotly.  She  was  not  at  all  certain 
that  Beatrice  might  not  know  of  and  be  hinting  at 
certain  practices  to  which  Woolmer,  even  yet,  in  the 


310  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

privacy  of  his  home,  reverted  sometimes  in  moments 
of  relaxation  from  the  strain  of  the  acquired. 

"  I  am  sure  I  neither  know  nor  care  how  he  conducts 
himself  in  those  respects,"  she  said,  with  dignity.  "But 
I  do  wish  that,  for  your  own  sake,  you  would  not  let 
your  theories  take  you  so  far.  It  is  all  very  well  to 
think  as  independently  and  oddly  as  one  pleases,  but  it 
doesn't  do  to  be  considered  unusual.  Really,  Beatrice, 
I  assure  you  that  it  doesn't." 

Beatrice  wondered  if  it  were  as  a  corrective  to  her 
dangerously  unconventional  tendencies  that,  late  in  the 
afternoon,  Evelyn  proposed  driving  to  have  tea  with 
a  young  married  woman,  the  wife  of  a  tin-mill  owner, 
who  was  one  of  Mrs.  Durran's  most  intimate  and  ad 
mired  friends,  and  who  might  be  counted  upon  to  behave 
always  with  entire  regard  for  the  opinions  of  that  which 
represented  to  her  the  world.  Beatrice  acquiesced  to 
the  proposal,  not  through  any  prospect  of  pleasure  in  the 
visit,  but  in  order  to  gratify  Evelyn. 

It  was  nearing  twilight  by  the  time  the  carriage  came 
to  the  door.  And  while  they  were  still  sitting  by  the 
tea-table  in  the  reception  room,  the  early  winter  night 
had  already  fallen.  Beatrice,  her  mind  wandering  from 
the  topic  which  was  engrossing  Evelyn  and  the  hostess, 
hearing  a  step  in  the  hall,  turned  her  head  in  the  direc 
tion.  The  hall  was  dark  as  yet,  but  the  lights  from  the 
reception  room  fell  in  a  wide  bar  across  it,  and  as  she 
looked  about  she  saw  a  man  pass  quickly  by  the  door. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  311 

She  gave  an  inward  start  of  amazement.  In  the  instant 
she  had  recognized  the  gaunt  face  and  long-armed  fig 
ure  of  the  man  whom  Durran  had  that  morning  pointed 
out  to  her  as  Lockhart. 

A  few  moments  later  the  master  of  the  house  came 
from  the  library,  and  joined  them  at  their  tea. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

An  habitation  giddy  and  unsure  hath  he  that  buildeth  on  the 
vulgar  heart.  —  Henry  IV. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  to  go  back  to  that  conference 
again?"  Evelyn  Durran  asked  of  Beatrice,  a  little 
querulously,  toward  the  end  of  the  evening.  Beatrice, 
mindful  of  a  guest's  duties,  but  sincerely  hoping  that 
her  hostess  had  no  little  plans  of  her  own,  answered 
that  it  was  her  intention  to  go  again  the  next  day,  pro 
vided  always  that  Evelyn  had  no  other  arrangements 
to  suggest. 

"No  —  there  is  nothing,"  Evelyn  admitted,  "but  I 
can't  see  why  you  try  to  make  yourself  like  that  kind 
of  thing.  '  I  certainly  am  not  going  to.  I  can't  sit 
through  another  morning  of  it." 

She  was  aware  that  she  was  fretful.  The  difficulties 
of  her  situation  made  her  so.  It  was  getting  to  be 
almost  more  than  she  could  bear  without  an  outburst, 
that  her  husband  and  Beatrice  should  have  so  little 
feeling  for  her,  that  Beatrice  should  persistently  keep 
on  making  herself  more  companionable  to  John  than  it 
was  possible  for  herself  to  be.  She  tried  bravely  not 
to  let  the  jealousy  turn  her  against  the  Beatrice  upon 
whom  she  had  once  expended  the  abandonment  of  a 

312 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  313 

girl's  admiration ;  but  it  must,  after  all,  be  to  a  great 
extent  an  affectation  on  the  latter's  part  to  pretend  to 
an  understanding  of,  a  liking  for,  such  questions  as  the 
conference  had  handled  that  morning.  Where  was  the 
use  of  a  woman's  playing  at  caring  for  that  sort  of 
thing?  It  was  unfeminine  —  and  it  led  one  into  doing 
emancipated  and  unbecoming  things,  such  as  Beatrice 
had  been  guilty  of  in  talking  to  a  labor  leader. 

Evelyn  had  been  on  the  verge  of  tears  all  day  that 
her  resolution  to  bring  herself  to  an  interest  in  her 
husband's  interests  had  been  overstrained  at  the  con 
ference.  She  simply  could  not  again  sit  through  such 
another  two  hours. 

"  You  will  have  to  go  alone,  will  you  not  ?  "  she 
queried.  u  John  can't  take  you.  He  has  to  be  at  his 
office  until  eleven  o'clock." 

"  I  suppose  I  shall,"  answered  Beatrice,  as  a  matter 
of  course. 

"I  should  think  you  wouldn't  like  to  go  about  to 
such  places  by  yourself." 

Beatrice  smiled.  "I  can't  remember  that  I  ever 
objected  very  seriously ;  but  if  I  had  I  should  have 
been  forced  either  to  do  that  or  relapse  into  retire 
ment." 

**  Well,  if  you  want  to  go,  I  suppose  you  will,"  said 
Evelyn,  with  resignation.  "You  always  seem  so 
gentle  and  womanly,  but  when  you  want  to  do  any 
thing  you  do  it,  and  without  caring  in  the  least  what 


314  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WOULD 

people  think.  I  don't  believe  that  ever  really  in 
fluences  you  at  all  —  that  you  ever  consider  it." 

"  I  consider  it,"  admitted  Beatrice,  "  but  I  don't 
believe  myself  that  it  ever  determines  my  final  actions." 

Evelyn  felt  annoyed,  and  felt  too  that  she  was  petty 
in  being  annoyed.  As  a  consequence  she  was  not  only 
dissatisfied  with  Beatrice,  but  with  herself  ;  and  she 
could  not  help  giving  her  humor  a  little  vent  by  a 
last  admonition,  a  Parthian  shaft.  "In  any  case,  dear, 
please  promise  to  let  it  influence  you  just  enough  to 
keep  you  from  talking  to  that  man  again  in  the  way 
you  did  this  morning." 

To  her  surprise  the  color  rose  warmly  in  Beatrice's 
face,  —  a  thing  she  had  almost  never  seen  happen. 
She  was  frightened  at  once.  Beatrice's  anger  was  a 
thing  she  had  never  known  and  did  not  wish  to  know. 

"  Evelyn,"  said  the  latter,  with  determination  in  her 
low  voice,  "  I  will  promise  nothing  at  all,  and  will  have 
to  guide  my  conduct  by  my  own  judgment  now,  as  I 
have  done  in  the  past ;  but  if  you  feel  that  I  am  throw 
ing  discredit  upon  you  while  I  am  your  guest,  perhaps 
it  would  be  better  for  me  to  save  you  that  by  going 
away." 

The  result  was  immediately  the  tears  which  Evelyn 
had  been  trying  all  day  to  keep  back,  and  which  came 
now,  mingled  with  sobbing  protestations  that  Beatrice 
was  not  to  go  away,  that  if  she  did,  she  herself  would 
never  be  happy  again. 


Oi     . 

HTY 

at 


CAPTAISfS-OF   THE   WORLD  315 

And  the  next  morning  as  Beatrice,  having  refused 
the  offer  of  a  carriage,  walked  toward  the  business  dis 
trict  through  a  light  snow-storm,  she  went  with  the 
resolution  to  manage  in  some  way  to  see  Neil  Manning 
before  she  should  return,  even  should  it  prove  neces 
sary  for  her  to  conspicuously  make  the  opportunity. 

This,  however,  it  turned  out  not  to  be  needful  for 
her  to  do.  She  looked  into  the  convention  hall,  and 
seeing  that  it  was  almost  empty  as  yet,  and  that 
Manning  was  not  there,  she  went  back  into  the  cor 
ridor  and  stood  waiting.  Though  she  was,  as  she  had 
told  Evelyn,  very  thoroughly  accustomed  to  acting 
not  only  upon  her  own  initiative,  but  alone,  and 
though  she  was  not  wont  to  trouble  herself  as  to  the 
construction  that  others  might  put  upon  her  acts,  she 
felt  herself  much  less  indifferently  confident  than  usual, 
and  was  conscious  of  wishing  not  to  be  noticed.  This 
step  which  she  was  taking  something  very  like  covertly, 
had  no  thoroughly  good  excuse  which  she  could  give 
even  to  herself.  She  might  almost  as  well  have  told 
Durran  of  what  she  had  seen  at  the  Steevens's  house  the 
evening  before.  Durran  would  have  passed  on  the 
information  to  Manning.  Yet  she  gave  herself  a  not 
perfectly  satisfactory  explanation  for  not  having  taken 
that  course.  Durran  might  speak  of  it  to  Evelyn,  and 
she  herself  would  be  put  in  the  not  very  pleasant  posi 
tion  of  betraying  her  hostess's  friends. 

A  number  of  delegates  passed  back  and  forth  ;  some 


316  CAPTAINS   OP   THE  WORLD 

glanced  at  her,  others  did  not  seem  to  be  aware  of  her 
presence,  the  browns  of  her  suit  and  furs  melting  into 
the  woodwork  and  shadows  of  the  half -lighted  corridor 
and  rendering  her  inconspicuous.  And  there  was,  be 
sides,  in  reality  nothing  odd  or  curious  in  the  figure 
of  a  woman  who  stood  waiting  for  some  one.  Several 
men  and  women  whom  she  knew  stopped  and  spoke  to 
her.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  was  barely  civil  to  them 
in  her  anxiety  to  have  them  leave  her  alone,  in  her  fear 
lest  Manning  should  come,  and  go  by  without  giving 
her  the  chance  to  stop  him  and  speak  to  him.  The 
event  favored  her,  though.  Not  only  was  she  alone 
when  he  did  come,  but  he  too  was  alone.  He  stepped 
out  of  the  elevator.  Its  door  clicked  shut,  and  it  slid 
on  up  the  shaft.  Evidently  unconscious  of  any  one 
in  the  hall,  he  stopped  to  unbutton  his  great  coat, 
throw  it  open,  and,  with  a  vigorous  movement,  shake 
off  the  snowflakes  that  had  settled  on  it. 

Beatrice  went  up  to  him. 

When  he  turned  and  found  her  beside  him,  he  was 
taken  too  unprepared  to  keep  his  eyes  from  looking 
down  into  hers  with  an  expression  there  was  no  mis 
taking,  —  a  quick,  almost  uncontrollable  desire  to  close 
her  in  his  arms  and  hold  her  to  him  ;  but  he  mastered 
himself  instantly,  with  an  effort  of  will  that  made  him 
more  stern  and  rigid  than  ever. 

With  no  excuse  for  doing  so,  and  with  little  preface, 
she  told  him  of  having  seen  Lockhart  at  Steevens's 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  317 

house  the  evening  before.  If  he  wondered  at  her  having 
come  to  him  with  this,  he  did  not  let  her  see  it.  He 
thanked  her,  telling  her  that  the  information  would 
probably  be  of  much  use  to  him,  and  he  walked  with 
her  to  the  foot  of  the  gallery  stairs.  She  went  up 
them,  and  he  himself  kept  on  into  the  hall  where  he 
fell  into  conversation  with  the  president  of  the  labor 
federation.  The  while  he  talked  he  kept  his  eye  on 
Lockhart,  who  was  in  one  of  the  seats  and  was  from 
time  to  time  jotting  down  notes  upon  a  piece  of 
paper. 

The  hall  filled,  the  chairman  took  his  place,  and  the 
proceedings  opened.  Manning  had  gone  to  a  seat,  — 
not,  however,  the  one  he  had  occupied  upon  the  day 
before,  but  the  one  next  to  Lockhart.  The  latter 
apparently  did  not  relish  the  proximity,  and  craning 
his  thin  neck  looked  about  once  or  twice  as  if  with  a 
view  to  moving,  could  the  opportunity  be  made.  Now 
and  then  he  turned  his  back  partially  toward  Manning 
and  made  another  note.  He  had  just  done  this,  when, 
under  cover  of  some  prolonged  applause  at  a  point  in 
an  address  which  was  pleasing  the  conference,  Man 
ning  touched  him  on  the  arm. 

"  Are  those  your  notes  for  something  you  are  plan 
ning  to  say,  Lockhart  ?  "  he  asked.  He  knew  that  it 
was  the  latter's  custom  to  use  copious  notes  for  the 
most  scant  expression  of  ideas. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Lockhart,  curtly. 


318  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

Manning  held  out  his  hand.  "  Will  you  let  me  see 
them  ?  "  he  said.  It  was  put  as  a  question,  but  it  held 
none  the  less  an  accent  of  command. 

"  No,"  retorted  Lockhart,  looking  him  over  in  angry 
amazement  at  what  was  certainly  a  cool  request. 

The  applause  had  subsided,  and  Manning  had,  to 
all  appearances,  taken  the  rebuff.  When  there  was 
another  round  of  cheering,  however,  he  spoke  to  Lock- 
hart  again.  "  Did  Steevens  give  you  any  suggestions 
as  to  those,"  —  he  indicated  the  rolled  paper  in  Lock- 
hart's  enormous,  bony  hand,  —  "  when  you  were  at  his 
house  yesterday  afternoon  ?  " 

All  the  effect  he  could  have  wished  to  produce,  he 
obtained.  Lockhart's  face  was  a  study  in  mingled 
dismay,  surprise,  wrath,  and  the  desire  to  know  how 
Manning  had  become  possessed  of  the  knowledge, 
which  would,  if  circulated,  be  his  own  complete  un 
doing.  To  have  it  known  that  he  was  going  in  and 
out  of  this  particular  rich  man's  house,  under  cover 
of  nightfall,  would  be  to  stand  practically  convicted 
of  bribe-taking. 

"  Will  you  let  me  see  the  notes  ?  "  repeated  Man 
ning,  much  more  suavely  than  before. 

The  notes  were  handed  over  with  the  worst  possible 
grace.  Manning  took  them  and  glanced  them  through 
as  he  listened  to  the  argument  which  was  going  on 
upon  the  floor.  His  expression  betrayed  nothing  what 
ever,  unless  it  were,  perhaps,  a  good  deal  of  interest  in 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOULD  319 

the  argument  for  the  most  part,  and  a  very  casual  one 
in  the  piece  of  paper  upon  which  his  eyes  only  occa 
sionally  fell. 

The  notes  were  so  brief  and  fragmentary  as  to  have 
been  practically  unintelligible  to  any  one  not  aided  in 
reading  them  by  outside  knowledge  and  shrewd  sus 
picion.  As  it  was,  Manning  guessed  their  purport  at 
once.  It  had  been  planned  that  Lockhart  was  to  speak, 
and  that  in  such  a  way  as  to  insult  and  antagonize  the 
representatives  of  capital  too  bitterly  for  it  to  be  possi 
ble  thereafter  to  reach  any  amicable  agreement  with 
them.  Manning  saw  farther  into  the  results  of  such  a 
course.  Open  abuse  of  the  employers  to  their  faces 
would  tend  to  solidify  Lockhart's  popularity  with  the 
turbulent  and  trouble-seeking  element  which  he  led; 
and  too  many  of  the  delegates  of  the  employers  had  come 
unwillingly,  under  compulsion  of  public  opinion,  not  to 
catch  at  any  chance  for  refusing  to  treat.  The  idea  was 
a  good  one,  and  had  only  to  be  properly  carried  out  to 
meet  with  a  large  measure  of  success. 

"When  did  you  and  Steevens  cook  this  up,  and 
when  are  you  to  speak  ? "  asked  Manning,  his  voice 
dropped,  but  reaching  the  ear  for  which  it  was  intended. 
Lockhart  gave  no  evidence  of  hearing.  "  This  morn 
ing  ?  "  There  was  again  no  answer.  Manning  touched 
the  arm  beside  him  again,  and  Lockhart  looked  around 
with  a  jerk  of  his  head  and  an  angry  scowl.  "  Here  is 
your  paper."  Manning  returned  it  to  him.  "But  I 


320 

wouldn't  use  any  of  those  notes  if  I  were  you."     It  was 
pregnant  with  threats  unsaid. 

"  Were  you  in  Steevens's  house  yourself  ? "  spit 
out  Lockhart,  whose  temper,  as  of  old,  led  him  into 
mistakes. 

"  No,"  said  Manning,  calmly.  "  I  wasn't  in  Steevens's 
house." 

It  was  not  many  minutes  afterwards  that  Steevens 
himself  had  the  floor.  He  spoke  for  half  an  hour. 
Neither  his  manner  nor  his  words  were  conciliatory.  In 
effect  he  demanded  what  was  to  be  the  use  or  outcome 
of  this  Utopian  conference  which  was  taking  the  time 
of  busy  men,  and  bringing  them  long  distances. 

Manning,  his  arm  thrown  over  the  back  of  his  seat, 
watched  the  speaker  and  gave  close  attention.  It  was 
a  speech  so  turned  as  to  have  well  provoked  an  unami- 
able  retort  from  any  man  in  the  labor  ranks  which  were 
being  slurred.  That  Steevens  —  whose  hardly  secret 
wish  it  was  to  have  the  conference  a  flat  failure  —  had 
intended  his  words  to  be  Lockhart's  cue,  bringing  him 
to  his  feet  in  an  angry  arraignment  of  the  employer, 
Manning  had  no  slightest  doubt.  Still  less  had  he  any, 
when  Steevens,  sitting  down  again,  refrained  through 
some  long  seconds  from  looking  toward  Lockhart; 
then,  unable  to  longer  resist,  threw  a  glance  of  inquiry 
in  his  direction. 

Manning,  from  eyes  which  appeared  unnoting,  saw 
the  glance.  So,  too,  it  seemed,  did  Lockhart,  for  he 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  321 

rose  hesitatingly  to  his  feet,  and  claimed  the  attention 
of  the  chairman. 

"  Don't  use  those  notes,"  said  Manning,  quietly,  with 
out  outward  sign.  And  Lockhart  obeyed. 

The  result  was  a  pointless  and  vapid  wandering, 
which,  to  a  vision  assisted  as  was  Manning's,  clearly 
produced  the  most  infuriated  and  indignant  disappoint 
ment  upon  the  part  of  the  betrayed  tin  manufacturer. 

Lockhart  sat  down.  Manning  slowly  took  his  arm 
from  over  the  back  of  his  seat  and  stood  to  his  full 
height.  He  did  not  look  upward  to  the  gallery  where 
Beatrice  sat.  He  had  forgotten  at  this  moment  that  she 
was  there,  that  she  would  be  listening.  The  time  for 
which  he  had  wished  had  come.  The  thing  which,  to 
him,  was  above  all  others  important  to  be  said,  he  meant 
to  say  now.  The  force  of  personality,  which  was  em 
bodied  in  the  dark  face  and  the  figure  with  its  powerful, 
forward-bending  shoulders,  was  sufficient  in  itself  to 
bring  attention  to  him.  The  direct,  restrained  lan 
guage,  with  no  superfluous  verbiage,  the  deep,  carrying, 
distinct  voice,  held  it.  He  had  no  rhetorical  exag 
geration.  If  —  speaking  plainly  and  to  the  purpose 
—  he  could  have  been  said  to  follow  in  any  school, 
it  was  rather  that  of  the  "trained  and  illumined 
peasant"  of  revolutionary  France,  who  kept  in  his 
phraseology  the  ability,  the  strength,  of  natural  meta 
phor,  which  are  the  heritage  of  direct  contact  with 
toil  and  hard  facts.  But  he  was  entirely  unaware  of 


322  CAPTAINS    OF    THE   WORLD 

any  model  or  precedent.  He  had  never  concerned  him 
self  with  the  manner  in  which  he  should  express  his 
opinions.  "If  you  need  words,  you  will  have  them. 
If  your  thoughts  are  worth  anything,  they  can  no  more 
help  taking  shape  in  the  right  words  than  a  billet  can 
help  taking  proper  shape  between  the  rolls,"  he  had  once 
briefly  dismissed  the  matter  when  an  aspirant  for  ora 
torical  honors  had  sought  his  views.  His  was  apt  to  be 
that  attitude  of  the  gifted  few,  —  so  disheartening  to 
the  ungifted,  but  yearning  and  aspiring  many,  —  which 
can  honestly  offer  no  encouragement  as  to  how  human 
endeavor  is  to  set  about  attaining  the  verisimilitude  of 
the  bestowed  power. 

And  now,  without  any  of  that  self-consciousness 
as  to  methods  which  usually  paralyzes  achievement,  he 
spoke  his  mind  to  the  men  who  had  faced  around  in 
their  seats  to  give  him  their  attention. 

In  reply  to  the  sceptical  and  antagonistic  question  of 
the  tin-mill  owner,  who  saw  nothing  that  could  come  of 
altering  those  customs,  those  industrial  regulations  emi 
nently  satisfactory  to  the  surviving  fit,  and  sanctioned 
and  made  venerable  by  all  the  ages,  he  outlined  broadly 
the  situation  as  he  saw  it  now.  Wide-spreading, 
almost  complete,  organization  upon  the  parts  of  both 
capital  and  labor,  interests  at  violent  opposition,  which 
the  broadest  minds  among  modern  thinkers  saw  to  be 
identical  in  fact  and  not  merely  in  soothing  euphuisms, 
—  millions  drawn  up  upon  either  side,  conscious,  articu- 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WOULD  323 

late,  organized  millions  of  a  dangerously  high  average 
intelligence,  each  upon  the  aggressive,  each  upon  the 
defensive.  There  needed  only  the  most  superficial 
knowledge  of  the  world's  history  to  foresee  that  if  these 
methods  continued,  in  the  course  of  a  time  which  could 
not  be  long  as  history  reckons,  there  was  but  one  out 
come  —  a  class  war  either  of  physical  force  or  the  ballot 
such  as  the  world  had  never  yet  seen,  such  as  should 
break  up  society  and  recast  it  in  some  other  mould,  —  a 
mould  safely  to  be  predicted  more  democratic  yet,  since 
the  trend  of  events  was  recognized  by  the  competent 
historian  to  be  ever  more  and  more  toward  democracy. 

But  these  methods  could  not  continue,  if  the  natural 
course  of  democratic  development  were  allowed  to  have 
its  way,  not  held  in  check  by  the  up-piling  and  jamming 
of  blocks  and  fragments  of  the  ice  from  a  passing 
season  of  frozen  conservatism.  Give  the  stream  of 
progress  its  way  and  no  harm  would  result.  But  keep 
it  back,  and  the  damage  would  in  the  end  change  the 
face  of  the  land.  And  was  not  the  way  taken  by  prog 
ress  away  from  the  savagery  of  conflict  ?  Already  the 
nations  were,  among  themselves,  so  quickly  turning  to 
methods  of  civilization  and  intelligence,  to  the  arbitra 
tion  of  disputes,  that  another  hundred  years  would 
probably  see  the  warfare  which  had  torn  the  world  from 
the  beginning,  a  strange,  dreadful,  and  almost  incred 
ible  memory. 

The  arbitration  of  the  nations  had  come  about  when 


324  CAPTAINS  OF   THE  WORLD 

armament  had  reached  the  utmost  point  of  destructive 
possibility.  Capital  and  labor  were  coming  to,  if 
indeed  they  were  not  already  at,  a  similar  point  of 
organization.  It  was  time  that  they  should  follow  the 
spirit  of  the  age  and  take  the  next  step  forward. 

And  apart  from  the  ethical  view  of  the  future  —  if, 
as  was  taught  by  the  advanced  economist,  there  was  in 
moral  forces  a  strength  and  value  constantly  under 
rated —  from  the  mere  utilitarian  standpoint,  was  it 
not  bad  business  to  allow  the  vast  waste  of  strength 
and  value  which  lay  in  these  wranglings  and  strug- 
glings  between  the  wage-payer  and  the  wage-earner  ? 
It  was  useless,  and  it  was  unnecessary. 

The  spirit  of  the  government,  as  such,  was  against 
centralization  and  paternalism,  and  therefore  the  scheme 
of  compulsory  arbitration  had  never  been  able  to  make 
way  here,  as  elsewhere.  Nor  had  appointed,  disinter 
ested  arbitration  committees  proved  a  signal  success. 
But  was  not  a  voluntary,  individual  agreement  for 
arbitration  which  should  be  compulsory,  to  be  made 
possible  ?  It  would  have  to  be  attempted  systemati 
cally  over  a  given  term  of  years,  upon  a  large  and 
respect-inspiring  scale.  Under  the  industrial  condi 
tions  as  they  were,  no  merely  local,  isolated  discussions 
and  settlements  could  avail.  The  stage  reached  was 
beyond  that. 

And  then,  briefly,  he  proposed  the  attempting  of  an 
arbitration  board,  composed  of  permanent,  well-paid 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  325 

members,  representatives  of  both  sides,  and  of  a 
hitherto  sadly  neglected  public.  The  salaries  would 
have  to  be  sufficient  to  obtain  worth,  and  to  suit  the  im 
portance  of  the  position,  and  the  tenure  of  that  position 
long  enough  to  give  the  office  dignity.  If  submission 
of  disputes  were  to  be  made  obligatory  upon  all  mem 
bers  of  either  federation,  practically  too  few  employers 
or  workingmen  remained  unfederated,  to  be  able  to 
seriously  disturb  the  peace  of  the  country. 

"  And  the  man,"  he  finished,  "  who  is  not  willing  to 
subordinate  what  may  seem  his  personal  interests,  to 
the  interests  of  his  country,  of  the  world  as  a  whole, 
—  that  man  is  unworthy  the  protection,  the  benefits, 
which  the  country  gives  him  —  is  morally  an  outlaw 
of  the  world." 

He  stood  for  a  minute  after  he  had  ceased  to  speak. 
Then,  as  there  began  a  dubious  applause,  confined  at 
first  to  no  more  than  half  the  room,  but  gradually  in 
creasing  to  some  volume  and  accent,  he  resumed  his 
seat. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

The  anger  of  a  woman  is  the  greatest  evil  with  which  one  can 
threaten  his  enemies.  —  CHILLON. 

THE  ostensible  means  of  Mrs.  Kemble's  support  was 
the  keeping  of  a  house  whereof  she  rented  all  of  the 
rooms  save  two,  which  she  retained  for  herself.  These 
two  were  on  the  first  floor,  and  one  of  them  looked 
upon  the  street  from  a  pair  of  high  French  windows, 
each  with  its  own  iron  balcony  too  small  to  serve  any 
purpose.  The  lower  hallway  of  the  house  was  dark, 
and  thick  with  close  and  greasy  odors,  most  distinguish 
able  among  which  was  that  of  the  stale  smoke  from  the 
Chinese  perfume  sticks  which  Mrs.  Kemble  frequently 
burned  in  her  own  apartments. 

Lockhart  rented  no  room  in  the  house,  but  he  had  a 
latch-key  to  the  common  entrance.  And  he  let  himself 
in  now,  without  bringing  the  negress  from  the  base 
ment.  He  tried  Mrs.  Kemble's  door,  and  finding  it 
locked,  shook  the  knob,  rattling  it  sharply.  His  humor 
was  not  so  good  that  he  could  take  a  check  amiably. 

He  did  not,  nevertheless,  vent  his  exasperation  when 
Mrs.  Kemble  let  him  in.  He  was  wary  about  putting 
her  in  a  temper.  Indeed,  it  was  rather  that,  than  any 
other  motive,  which  made  him  continue  with  her,  rela- 

326 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  327 

tions  which  had  long  since  become  perfunctory  and 
wearisome. 

Mrs.  Kemble  was  attired  in  a  blue  silk  petticoat  and 
a  jacket  of  flimsy  pink  ribbon  and  much  coarse  lace. 
Both  were  draggled  and  untidy.  And  one  of  her  large 
mules  of  quilted  pink  satin  and  fur  had  had  part  of  the 
side  burned  away  by  too  close  proximity  to  the  gas 
stove.  The  stove  was  burning  now,  attached  to  a  jet 
in  the  middle  of  the  room.  There  was  no  ventilation, 
and  the  air  was  exhausted  and  ill-smelling.  It  reeked 
too  with  a  heavy  perfume,  which  was  shaken  out  in 
waves  from  Mrs.  Kemble's  person  as  she  went  back  to 
the  lounge  upon  which  she  had  been  lying,  reading  a 
magazine. 

"  What's  the  reason  you  ain't  at  the  conference  ?  "  she 
asked,  with  an  indifference  which  made  it  apparent 
that  she  was  asking  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  having 
something  to  say. 

If  their  relations  were  become  perfunctory  upon  Lock- 
hart's  side,  they  had  never  been  otherwise  upon  her 
own,  though  at  one  period  she  had  made  greater  effort 
to  please. 

He  had  been  at  the  conference  in  the  morning,  he 
told  her.  "  But  there's  no  use  anybody  but  Manning 
and  the  capitalists  being  around.  They're  running  the 
whole  show  to  suit  themselves." 

He  went  on  to  give  expression  to  that  which  was 
evidently  boiling  within  him.  Even  the  president  of 


328  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

the  labor  federation,  lie  stated,  was  cutting  an  insignifi 
cant  figure  by  comparison  with  Manning.  "  He  sees 
to  it  that  nobody  else  gets  a  chance.  The  chairman's 
in  with  him,  and  the  bosses  likes  to  hear  what  he's  got 
to  say,  because  he  says  what  he  knows  they'll  like. 
I've  been  on  hand  with  the  committee  on  resolutions 
five  days  now,  since  the  first  of  the  week,  and  I've  seen 
that  it  ain't  no  use  to  get  up  a  resolution  that  ain't  just 
about  fixed  to  suit  the  employers.  The  whole  business 
is  a  ridiculous  show,  run  to  please  capital." 

He  got  up  and  went  to  another  chair.  "  Since  he 
sprung  that  pet  scheme  of  his  about  the  permanent 
arbitration  board,  he's  been  pegging  away  at  putting  it 
through  every  hour  of  the  day.  He  thinks  it's  going 
to  settle  everything.  If  he  gets  that,  'such  a  thing 
as  a  strike  of  any  great  importance  could  hardly  hap 
pen.'"  Lockhart  recited  it  with  an  angry  accent  of 
mockery.  "  Great  idea,  ain't  it  ?  How  long  do  you 
think  it  would  be  before  capital  had  bought  over  the 
labor  members  and  the  public's  representatives,  and 
would  get  it  all  their  own  way  ?  " 

"  Did  you  tell  them  so  ?  "  Mrs.  Kemble  asked.  She 
was  very  slightly  concerned  by  any  of  it,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  and  she  would  have  preferred  to  read  her  story 
magazine. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  "  I  didn't  say  so.  What's  the 
use?  You  could  see  they  most  of  them  favored  it  — 
most  likely  they  paid  him  to  talk  it  up.  Somebody 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  329 

else  suggested  it,  though,  and  what  Manning  said  was 
that  if  the  salary  was  as  good  as  an  office  of  so  much 
importance  to  the  country  ought  to  get,  and  if  the 
right  sort  of  men  were  chosen  for  it,  the  chances  of 
bribery  were  small  —  and  that  the  members  of  such  a 
board  would  be  open  to  investigation  and  trial  and  dis 
missal  if  they  got  caught  at  any  sculduggery.  Said 
there  was  no  more  reason  why  they  should  be  venal 
than  the  members  of  any  board  or  body.  No,"  he 
reiterated,  "  where's  the  use  of  saying  anything  ?  " 

He  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  explain  that  he  had 
also  been  in  some  doubt  as  to  how  an  expression  of  his 
views  upon  the  subject  might  in  future  effect  certain 
capitalistic  subsidies  of  which  he  was  in  receipt.  His 
position  between  two  masters  was  a  difficult  one.  The 
proposed  board  was  indifferent  to  him  in  itself,  except 
in  so  far  as  it  was  the  conception  of  the  man  whom, 
above  all  others,  he  hated  and  would  have  been  glad  to 
see  in  discredit  rather  than  advancing  steadily. 

"  You  see  —  Manning  will  be  one  of  that  board,  on  a 
fat  salary,  and  hobnobbing  with  the  bosses,"  he  prophe 
sied.  "  That's  what  he's  working  for." 

"Do  you  want  to  be  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Kemble,  not  pay 
ing  enough  heed  to  all  that  he  said  to  appreciate  the 
significance  of  her  words,  nor  to  note  the  effect  they 
had  on  Lockhart,  who  gave  her  a  quick,  searching 
look  of  suspicion  before  disclaiming,  with  strong  lan 
guage,  any  tendency  toward  that  particular  ambition. 


330  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

She  gave  him  a  slow  glance  of  contemptuous  sur 
prise  at  his  vehemence,  a  bad  light  in  the  heavy-lidded 
eyes,  from  which  went  out,  now,  cross  lines  and  circles 
of  wrinkles. 

"  Well  —  all  right  —  "  she  cut  off  his  profanity. 
"  Don't  get  hot.  I  don't  care  whether  you  want  to 
or  not." 

He  was  silenced  for  a  short  time.  Then  he  came 
out  again  against  Manning,  and  the  importance  he  was 
arrogating  to  himself  in  the  conference. 

"  You  ought  to  see  him  standing  around  and  chum 
ming  with  the  plug  hats.  Talks  to  them  as  if  they 
was  hand-in-glove  for  the  same  purposes  —  and  I  guess 
they  are.  Why,  Monday,  at  noon,  I  went  to  look  for 
him,  and  they  told  me  he  was  in  the  directors'  room 
up  there.  I  went  in  and  found  him,  —  room  full  of  all 
the  big  swells  from  over  the  whole  country  —  and 
Manning,  by  the  Lord  !  sitting  down  in  one  corner, 
hobnobbing  with  old  Tennant's  daughter,  as  though 
they'd  been  brought  up  together  all  their  lives." 

Mrs.  Kemble  was  interested  at  last.  She  did  not 
betray  the  fact  by  any  start,  but  she  turned  gradually 
over  upon  her  side,  resting  on  one  elbow  and  facing 
him.  She  asked  a  question  or  two.  Then  she  changed 
to  a  sitting  posture,  her  bare  elbows  on  her  knees  and 
her  chin  on  her  fists.  "  Do  you  know  something  ?  " 
she  said.  "  Do  you  know  he's  been  in  love  with  her 
since  the  time  there  was  the  strike  at  Staunton  ?  " 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  331 

The  day  had  been  when  Lockhart  would  have  jeal 
ously  demanded  to  know  how  she  had  come  by  the 
information.  Now  he  cared  not  a  snap  of  his  fingers 
about  that.  He  put  her  through  a  cross-examination, 
and  elicited  all  the  facts  she  cared  to  let  him  have.  It 
made  no  difference  to  her  whether  or  not  he  knew  that 
she  had  gone  to  Manning's  room  years  before  —  so  long 
as  he  should  not  know  that  Manning  had  sent  her  out 
again.  He  might  draw  such  conclusions  as  he  liked. 
What  mattered  to  her  was  that  she  saw  an  opportunity 
for  the  revenge  for  which  she  had  waited  long,  but  which 
opened  out  before  her  now  with  immense  possibilities. 

Lockhart,  upon  his  part,  did  not  ask  what  was 
behind  the  visit  to  Manning's  room.  The  question 
hardly  occurred  to  him  as  necessary.  Nor  did  he  find 
any  contradiction  between  the  fact  as  he  inferred  it  and 
a  foolish,  romantic  love  for  an  unobtainable  woman. 

He  got  the  story  from  her  twice  over.  Afterward 
he  sat  for  a  while,  absently  fingering  the  fob  of  his 
watch  and  looking  out  of  the  window  to  the  ice-coated, 
ash-sprinkled  sidewalk,  where  there  was  only  an  occa 
sional  passer,  blown  by  a  strong  and  freezing  wind. 

Presently  he  got  up,  with  intention  in  his  movement, 
and  announced  that  he  thought  he  would  go  back  to 
the  conference. 

Mrs.  Kemble,  looking  after  him  as  he  crossed  the  street 
and  turned  a  corner,  smiled,  biting  the  tip  of  a  thick  fore 
finger  meditatively.  Then  she  returned  to  her  story. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

.  .  .  the  force  of  words, 

Can  do  whate'er  is  done  by  conquering  swords. 

—  EURIPIDES. 

A  man  should  be  only  partially  before  his  time.  .  .  .  Success 
ful  propagandists  have  succeeded  because  the  doctrine  they  bring 
into  form  is  that  which  their  listeners  have  for  some  time  felt 
without  being  able  to  shape. — HARDY. 

FROM  the  closing  scenes  of  the  conference,  from  a 
round  of  mutual  congratulations  upon  a  degree  of 
success  beyond  that  which  any  but  the  most  sanguine 
had  hoped  for,  and  from  the  speeches  of  optimistic 
prophets  of  future  universal  concord,  and  a  near  in 
dustrial  millennium,  Manning  came  out  into  the  cold 
and  falling  darkness  of  a  late  afternoon.  Lockhart 
was  with  him,  but  their  ways  diverged  as  soon  as 
they  left  the  building.  The  latter  had  a  meeting  of 
workmen  to  address ;  Manning  was  on  his  way  to  his 
hotel.  The  one  ran  out  from  the  sidewalk  and 
jumped  upon  a  crowded  car,  hanging  at  the  edge  of 
an  overflowing  platform.  The  other  went  along  the 
badly  lighted  main  thoroughfares,  his  head  down, 
the  collar  of  his  thick  greatcoat  turned  up  above  his 
ears,  his  hat  pulled  forward  over  his  brows.  He 
had,  as  he  kept  on  his  long  stride  ahead,  anything 

332 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD  333 

but  the  look  of  a  man  who  has  obtained  a  triumph 
and  satisfied  an  ambition. 

The  wretched  women  whom  the  last  months  of 
hard  times  had  driven  to  the  streets,  and  to  a  shame 
which  was  not  saving  them  from  starvation,  found 
his  aspect  forbidding  and  did  not  approach  him.  The 
ragged,  shivering  men,  who  were  begging  cringingly 
from  any  other  passer-by  whose  appearance  bespoke 
prosperity,  also  kept  away  from  him.  The  children 
were  not  so  timid.  Fear  drove  them  to  any  lengths 
of  boldness — fear  of  yet  another  night  of  hunger, 
in  alleys  and  barrels  and  doorways,  of  the  deaths  by 
freezing,  which  many  of  those  like  them  had  already 
died. 

They  pleaded  for  pennies.  Manning  gave  them. 
Through  the  recent  period  of  want  he  had  kept  one 
pocket  of  his  coat  supplied  with  very  small  change. 
But  the  pit  of  need  was  far  too  deep  for  such  drops 
to  be  other  than  lost  in  it. 

He  turned  into  the  entrance  of  the  hotel  where 
he  had  his  room.  Men  who  were  standing  about  the 
lobby  stopped  him  and  asked  for  the  last  news  from 
the  finished  conference.  A  knot  of  reporters  were 
waiting  for  him,  to  get  a  private  expression  of  his 
views.  He  satisfied  them.  He  had  trained  himself 
to  a  diplomatic  regard  not  only  for  the  meaning  of 
words,  but,  more  important  always,  the  constructions 
liable  to  be  put  upon  them  by  others. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

As  soon  as  he  was  left  to  himself  he  quitted  the 
lobby  and  went  to  his  own  room.  He  had  kept  on 
his  coat  downstairs.  Now  he  took  it  off  and  threw 
it  over  a  chair,  laying  his  hat  and  gloves  on  top  of 
it.  He  stood  where  he  was,  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  and  his  eyes  went  slowly  around  the  dreary 
sameness  of  the  hotel  apartment  where  there  was  no 
one  to  welcome  him,  no  one  waiting  to  whom  it  would 
import  to  know  that  he  had  now,  in  only  his  thirtieth 
year,  reached  the  point  toward  which  he  had  directed 
himself,  attained  the  chief  of  the  definite  objects 
upon  which  his  ambition  and  purpose  had  been 
set. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "This  is  the  time  a 
man  marries,"  he  said  aloud  "  —  marries  some  one  who 
may  develop  rather  less  responsiveness  than  an  empty 
room." 

He  smiled  more  than  a  little  bitterly,  and  walked 
away  from  the  centre-table  to  stand  upon  a  rug  in 
front  of  his  bookcase. 

Scenes  and  parts  of  speeches  from  this  last  after 
noon  of  the  conference  recurred  to  him.  Then  scenes 
and  words  from  his  walk  back  through  the  streets. 
He  remembered  sonorous,  high-sounding  sentences, 
which  served  as  a  sort  of  verbal  telescope,  looking 
through  which  one  might  see  a  millennium  almost 
directly  before  one,  almost  here. 

They  had   told  of  the  great,  rich,  prosperous,  and 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  335 

free  country  of  which  it  was  the  common  good  for 
tune  of  those  present  to  be  citizens,  where  the  best 
conceivable  form  of  government  —  beyond  whose  per 
fection  no  imaginable  step  was  left  —  offered  its  bene 
fits  to  all  alike.  He  remembered  the  children  who 
would  be  without  shelter  and  food. 

Was  it  possible  that  men  whom  the  community 
looked  upon  as  sound  in  sense  and  judgment  actually 
believed  that  while  so  much  inequality  and  misery 
still  existed,  while  fifty  per  cent  of  the  population 
were  rated  as  "  very  poor,"  the  last  word  in  govern 
mental  experiment  had  yet  been  said  ?  As  well  hold, 
with  certain  of  the  sects,  that  all  truth  had  been  once 
and  for  all  revealed  to  the  Prophets,  the  Fathers,  and 
the  Councils,  as  that  political  verity  had  been  dis 
covered  for  all  time,  that  no  fallacies  were  to  be 
disclosed,  no  new  lights  shed,  no  new  wants  met. 

In  the  face  of  the  incalculably  enormous  work  of 
betterment  which  was  yet  to  be  effected,  even  in  a 
steadily  improving  world,  what  did  it  amount  to, 
after  all,  that  which  this  conference  had  effected  ? 

His  was  not  one  of  those  natures  for  which  any 
coveted  fruit  is  turned  into  a  Sodom's  apple  of  fibre 
and  dust  by  the  very  fact  of  holding  it.  As  a  rule 
he  knew  what  he  wanted,  and  when  he  had  tried  for 
and  obtained  it,  he  found  it  satisfactory.  But  to  the 
most  definite  and  purposeful  characters,  there  come 
moments  of  discouragement  when,  after  long  climbing 


336  CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WOELD 

to  some  peak  which,  from  below,  has  seemed  one  of 
the  highest,  they  are  enabled,  by  standing  upon  it,  to 
get  a  fair  view  over  vast  seas  of  other  mountains  yet 
to  be  conquered,  melting  away  into  invisibility,  piling 
higher  and  more  high.  Then  the  point  which  they 
have  reached  seems,  after  all,  so  low  as  to  be  little 
above  the  flat. 

Manning  had  to-day  reached  such  a  point.  And 
now  it  served  him  as  one  of  those  stopping-places 
of  life  from  which  we  look  back  over  the  way  we  have 
come. 

It  had  not  been  an  easy  way  for  him  —  though  he 
had  made  it  with  a  speed  only  possible  in  an  age  and 
land  of  young  men. 

For  months  after  he  had  left  Staunton  he  had  found 
himself  unable  to  get  work  at  his  trade.  To  give  his 
name  was  to  be  questioned  whether  he  were  not  that 
Manning  who  had  led  at  Staunton.  To  answer  that 
he  was,  had  been  to  be  refused  a  position  of  any  sort. 
He  had  taken  any  odd  jobs  he  could  get,  had  worked 
in  the  streets  as  a  day-laborer,  on  farms  as  a  hand. 
He  might,  in  all  likelihood,  have  obtained  some  per 
manent  clerical  or  commercial  position,  but  there  had 
come  to  him  by  then  a  good  deal  of  that  teeth-grit 
ting  stubbornness  which  the  apparent  opposition  of 
Fortune  rouses  in  men  of  strength,  that  determination 
to  beat  it,  not  by  turning  aside  and  evading,  bat  by 
forcing  it  to  stand  off  from  the  path  they  have 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  337 

started  upon  and  mean,  more  than  ever,  to  keep  to. 
He  had  won  by  finding  at  length  a  superintendent 
of  liberal  tendency  who  had  been  willing  to  allow  him 
in  his  mills. 

The  plant  had  been  an  open  one,  running  eight-hour 
shifts,  and  he  had  found  time  enough  for  the  studying, 
experimenting,  and  writing,  to  keep  up  which,  at  Staun- 
ton,  it  had  been  necessary  for  him  to  live  at  far  too 
hard  pressure.  He  had  also  given  much  attention  to 
the  affairs  of  his  lodge  and  of  the  union  in  general, 
deliberately  aiming  for  prominence  and  leadership  as 
he  had  long  before  let  Lester  understand  that  he  in 
tended  to  do.  The  work  in  the  mills  he  had  looked 
upon  merely  as  a  temporary  expedient,  a  necessary 
stepping-stone  to  a  position  in  the  association. 

Then  he  had  been  sent  as  delegate  to  a  convention. 
Circumstances  had  favored  him  — sometimes  forced 
by  himself  to  do  so  —  and  he  had  been  elected  to  an 
ill-paid  official  position  in  the  union. 

He  had  thereupon  left  the  steel  mills. 

When,  in  course  of  time,  he  had  been  made  the 
president,  he  had  been  the  youngest  to  hold  the  office. 
His  appearance  had  helped  him  in  this  as  he  had 
looked  considerably  more  than  his  years.  He  had 
taken  the  position  at  a  time  when  the  great  majority 
of  employers  and  manufacturers  in  the  country  had 
been  driven  by  many  very  real,  and  many  fancied, 
union  abuses,  into  a  coalition  to  fight  and  break  the 


338  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

backbone  of  unionism,  themselves,  after  the  manner  of 
all  first  reformers,  as  unreasoning,  unjust,  and  short 
sighted,  in  not  a  few  of  their  contentions,  as  the  unions 
had  been. 

There  had  of  necessity  resulted  a  quick  swelling  of 
the  union  ranks,  a  marked  spread  of  sentiment  for 
organization  upon  the  part  of  men  who  heard  their  class 
reviled  and  saw  it  in  danger  of  bitter  persecution. 

The  situation  had  been  eminently  a  fighting  one, 
and  it  had  appealed  to  the  fighting  instinct  in  Man 
ning  himself.  But  he  had  done  his  utmost  to  keep 
that  down,  or  at  least  within  the  bounds  of  business 
and  good  sense.  He  had  looked  over  the  conditions 
as  impartially  as  he  could  bring  himself  to  it,  searching 
for  the  broad  general  principles,  and  trying  not  to  let 
himself  be  biassed  one  way  or  the  other  by  the  thou 
sands  of  exasperating  and  enraging  specific  instances. 

He  saw  that  it  was  an  age  unlike  any  preceding 
one,  in  that  not  conquest,  migration,  religious  dispu 
tation,  romanticism,  nor  the  fine  arts  represented 
its  spirit  —  but  industry.  In  it,  therefore,  the  working- 
man,  the  toiler,  held  a  place  of  infinitely  greater  im 
portance  than  in  any  former  time,  since  he  was 
himself  of  infinitely  greater  importance  to  material 
civilization.  Yet  this  very  large  factor  in  the  problems 
of  the  day  was  almost  totally  neglected  by  the  state, 
left  to  the  mercy  of  mere  personal  interests  and  ani 
mosities.  A  policy  upon  precisely  the  same  order  as 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WOULD  339 

that  which  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
had  caused  statesmen  to  look  upon  their  country's 
foreign  relations  as  the  matter  of  primary  moment, 
placing  last,  and  least  to  be  considered,  its  internal 
condition,  —  a  similar  policy  now  dictated  that  all 
and  any  matters  relating  to  labor  conditions  should 
generally  take  care  of  themselves  and  trust  to  chance. 
As  the  one  understanding  of  government  had  had  to 
be  outgrown,  so,  too,  in  course  of  time,  would  this. 

Napoleon,  the  most  eminently  practical  of  men,  had 
said  that  without  Rousseau  —  the  theoretical,  the 
dreamer  of  then  unthinkable  dreams  —  the  French 
Revolution  could  never  have  been.  It  was  the  think 
ers,  the  prophets,  the  believers  in  the  seemingly  im 
possible,  whose  influence  and  predictions,  working 
slowly,  unrealized,  changed  the  face  of  states  and 
societies.  And  most  of  the  greatest  of  these  in  the 
modern  world  believed  in  and  foretold  a  necessary 
change  in  the  position  of  the  wage-earning  classes. 

To  Manning's  mind  it  had  seemed  that  those  things 
for  which  the  unions  of  the  trades  stood  were  the  in 
evitable  outcome  of  an  industrial  age,  of  republican 
ism,  democracy,  and  public  education.  As  such,  they 
could  not  by  any  conceivable  means  be  frustrated  — 
though  they  might  indeed  be  checked. 

He  saw  a  great  body  of  men  representing  the  money 
interests  pursuing  the  usual  course  of  such  throughout 
all  history,  —  a  history  which  was  but  the  long  tale 


340  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

of  their  gradual  defeat,  —  improving  and  benefiting 
unquestionably,  but,  too,  manipulating  laws,  grasping, 
amassing,  displaying,  taunting,  and  fulminating  curses 
most  heartily  returned  in  kind,  trying  to  subject  ab 
solutely  to  its  will  not  only  American  labor,  but, 
infinitely  more  inflammable  foreign  labor  in  process 
of  Americanization.  The  flood-gates  were  open  for  a 
vast  inrushing  tide  of  the  lowest  type  of  races  in  every 
respect  alien.  In  the  course  of  a  time  which  could  not 
be  long,  as  history  reckons,  there  would  inevitably 
come  an  actual  and  violent  clash  of  most  appalling 
consequences  —  unless,  indeed,  the  opposing  factions 
could  be  brought  to  adopt  the  methods  of  civilization 
and  abandon  that  savagery,  most  and  longest  adherent 
always  in  the  struggle  for  life  and  goods. 

It  was  in  this  wise  that  he  summed  up  the  past, 
the  present,  and  the  future  as  regarded  this  question. 
And  he  had  soon  found  others  who  thought  with  him, 
some  even  who  were  already  going  to  work  toward 
a  solution  of  the  problem.  Among  these  latter  had 
been  Durran,  who  did  not  lack  definite  purpose  and 
a  telling  force,  but  whose  many  other  interests  made 
it  impossible  for  him  to  take  up  this  one  with  undi 
vided  attention. 

Eventually  the  two  of  them  had  come  to  an  agree 
ment,  whereby  Durran  was  to  use  his  influence  with 
the  federation  of  which  he  was  an  officer,  and  Manning 
his  with  that  of  labor  to  bring  about  a  conference 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  341 

which  might  seek  and  experiment  with  a  modus 
vivendi  for  the  opposing  bodies. 

The  conference,  after  close  upon  two  years  of 
preliminaries  and  overcoming  of  difficulties  and  pre 
judices,  had  been  and  passed. 

It  had  appointed  members  of  a  permanent  arbitra 
tion  board,  the  possibilities  of  which  were  to  be  given 
a  fair  trial.  Manning  had  been  among  those  chosen. 
Durran  had,  with  obvious  justice,  pleaded  his  other 
interests  in  his  refusal  to  serve,  but  the  representatives 
of  all  three  classes  were  men  with  whom  Manning 
believed  it  would  be  possible  to  work  in  concord. 

The  two  weeks  had  not  been  without  violent  de 
bates,  angry  recriminations,  and  strenuous  rivalry. 

Manning  was  tired  after  it,  but  still  upon  too  much 
mental  tension  to  be  able  to  rest.  He  fell  to  walking 
back  and  forth,  looking  at  the  large  red  roses  upon 
a  yellow  trellis  which  formed  the  pattern  of  the 
carpet. 

Before  the  place  on  the  board  had  been  offered 
him,  he  had  determined  to  accept  it,  in  the  event  of 
its  being  so.  He  had  taken  all  that  it  would  mean 
into  full  consideration.  He  would,  he  knew,  find  it 
necessary  to  resign  from  his  presidency,  but  the  man 
who  was  next  in  order  of  succession  would  be  capable 
in  handling  the  duties  of  the  office.  The  salary  he 
would  receive  as  a  member  of  the  board  would  be 
very  considerably  greater  than  his  present  one.  But 


342  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

he  was  not,  in  any  case,  under  the  absolute  necessity 
of  considering  that.  His  means,  apart  from  any 
salary,  were  sufficient  to  render  him  independent. 
He  drew  an  income  from  several  patents  of  machinery 
and  processes.  At  any  time  within  the  last  three 
years,  he  might  have  left  the  labor  ranks  and  gone 
into  better-paying  positions.  His  executive  ability 
was  such  as  would  have  made  his  services  desirable, 
and  excellent  business  offers  had  been  repeatedly 
made  to  him.  In  the  politics  of  the  city  or  the  state 
he  might  have  had  almost  anything  that  he  wished. 
The  mayoralty,  the  governorship,  a  seat  in  Congress, 
had  all  been  proposed  to  him.  But  he  had  small 
faith  in  the  possibility  of  greatly  serving  the  cause 
of  labor  through  politics,  as  yet.  One  absolutely 
necessary  preliminary  step  to  that  was  that  labor 
should  be  brought  to  so  conduct  itself  as  to  obtain  the 
respect,  if  not  the  sympathy,  of  the  people  as  a  whole. 
There  had  been  many  a  time,  nevertheless,  when, 
angry,  disgusted,  dispirited,  he  had  wondered  if  he 
might  not,  after  all,  be  wrong  in  remaining  here, 
when  his  natural  course  would  have  led  him  else 
where.  And  since  the  day  a  fortnight  before,  when 
he  had  met  Beatrice  Tennant  in  Durran's  office,  he 
had  not  been  able  to  keep  it  out  of  his  mind  that 
had  he  pursued  a  different  course,  he  might,  by  now, 
have  been  in  a  position  where  he  could  have  won  her 
love  and  married  her.  It  would  have  been  right  and 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  343 

proper  in  the  eyes  of  a  reasonable,  logical  world,  that 
she  should  have  married  an  erstwhile  mill-worker 
who  had  made  money  and  gained  prominence  in 
either  industry  or  politics. 

Were  he,  at  this  moment,  to  enter  the  political 
field  and  meet  with  a  success  which  he  was  almost 
assured,  it  would  cause  little  or  no  disapproval  for 
Beatrice  to  marry  him,  more  especially  as  she  was  no 
longer  now  a  very  rich  woman. 

As  it  was — what  the  future  held  for  him  was  to 
do  to  the  end,  as  well  as  he  could,  this  thing  which 
he  had  undertaken.  His  best  hope  was  to  remain 
permanently  upon  the  arbitration  board,  should  it 
prove  a  successful  experiment.  If  he  were  to  have 
to  leave  that  eventually,  some  other  field  of  activity 
along  the  same  line  would  doubtless  present  itself.  It 
was  a  practical  certainty  that  he  would  henceforth  be  a 
rather  prominent  and  important  man — and  a  lonely 
one. 

He  stopped  in  his  restless  walk,  sat  in  the  chair 
which  was  drawn  up  to  the  centre-table,  and  bending 
down  his  head  rested  it  upon  his  folded  arms. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

What  if  some  little  pain  the  passage  have 
That  makes  frail  flesh  to  fear  the  bitter  wave  ? 
Is  not  short  pain  well  borne  that  brings  long  ease 
And  lays  the  soul  to  sleep  in  quiet  grave  ? 

—  Faery  Queene. 

NETTIE  approached  the  hotel  where  Manning  lived, 
and  coming  in  front  of  the  entrance,  she  hesitated. 
She  knew  that  her  clothes  were  shabby  to  the  point 
of  ragged,  that  floors  of  black  and  white  marble  in 
intricate  octagons,  such  as  she  saw  through  the  glass 
of  the  storm-door,  were  not  for  feet  whose  shoes 
were  worn  out  and  separating  over  stockings  too  old 
to  take  more  darning.  But  she  had  to  see  Manning. 
It  was  Sunday  and  he  would  not  be  at  his  office. 
She  must  catch  him  here  this  morning,  before  he 
should  go  out.  She  brought  to  bear  some  of  that 
courage  for  which  all  her  life  had  called,  and  pushed 
back  the  double  barrier  of  swinging  doors. 

A  negro  porter,  who  was  scrubbing  the  marble  with 
much  splashing  of  dirty  water,  stopped  work,  leaned 
upon  his  long-handled  mop,  and  watched  her.  Three 
bell-boys,  sitting  on  a  bench,  nudged  one  another 
openly,  grinned,  and  made  audible  comments.  Though 

344 


CAPTAINS   OF    THE   WORLD  345 

it  was  not  yet  nine  o'clock,  there  were  a  number  of 
men  about.  These,  however,  hardly  noticed  her. 

It  was  the  clerk  behind  the  counter,  —  a  person  with 
smooth  brown  hair,  a  curled,  brown  mustache,  which 
bore  the  crimp  of  the  iron,  white  hands,  and  a  radiat 
ing  odor  of  freshly  applied  bay  rum,  —  who  completed, 
for  her,  however,  the  realization  of  her  temerity.  Her 
experience  had  not  been  sufficient  to  give  her  even 
the  poor  comfort  of  knowing  that  hers  was  the  com 
mon  lot,  when  he  stood  at  a  distance  and  looked  her 
over  with  a  fine  detached  sort  of  disdain.  He  raised 
his  eyebrows. 

"Well?"  he  demanded. 

Nettie  answered,  but  he  either  did  not  hear,  or 
preferred  to  have  it  seem  so. 

"  See  here  —  what  do  you  want  ? "  he  put  it  to 
her. 

He  had  some  justification  in  the  fact  of  having  been 
constantly  bothered,  of  late  weeks,  by  beggar  women 
who  had  come  into  the  lobby. 

Nettie  repeated  what  she  had  said.  She  wished  to 
see  Mr.  Manning. 

The  clerk  looked  her  over  again.  "  What  do  you 
want  to  see  him  about?"  he  asked  her,  with  a  com 
mingling  of  impertinence  and  suspicion  which,  even 
in  Nettie's  subdued  and  broken  spirit,  proved  too 
much  for  the  Irish  in  her  temper. 

"None  of  your  business,"  she  flung  back,  her  eyes 


346  CAPTAINS    OF    THE   WORLD 

kindling.  "You  go  tell  him  that  I  want  to  see 
him." 

The  clerk  stared  at  her  in  wrath,  divided  between 
a  desire  to  have  her  put  out  by  the  negro  and  a 
wholesome  awe  of  Manning.  The  latter  conquered, 
and  he  summoned  one  of  the  bell-boys  by  a  sovereign 
nod  of  the  head. 

"Go  find  Mr.  Manning  —  he's  probably  in  at  break 
fast  now  —  and  tell  him  there's  a  beggar  woman  here 
wants  to  see  him.  What's  your  name  ? "  he  turned 
back  to  her  sharply. 

"  Never  you  mind,"  said  Nettie.  "  You  let  that  boy 
tell  him  what  you  said  —  and  see  what  happens  after 
wards." 

The  clerk  thought  better  of  it.  He  repeated  his 
order  to  the  waiting  buttons,  but  in  modified  lan 
guage. 

Nettie  went  off  to  a  chair  in  a  corner  and  sat  in 
it,  looking  dully  at  the  mop  and  the  brown  water  as 
they  went  over  the  marble.  She  did  not  see  Man 
ning  until  he  stopped  in  front  of  her  and  spoke. 
She  heard  the  familiar,  deep  voice  speaking  her 
name  in  plain  surprise. 

"  What  brings  you  back  here  ? "  he  asked,  as  she 
stood  up.  "  What  has  happened  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  talk  to  you  here,"  she  said,  glanc 
ing  around  the  lobby  with  a  look  which  took  in  the 
men,  the  still  grinning  bell-boys,  and  the  covertly 


CAPTAINS  OF   THE  WORLD  347 

observant  clerk.  Was  there  not  some  other  place  to 
which  they  might  go  ? 

He  led  her  to  one  of  the  public  parlors,  which  they 
had  to  themselves. 

"  My  husband's  dead,"  she  stated  at  once,  when  they 
had  taken  two  chairs  in  a  corner  by  a  window.  "  He 
killed  himself.  He  took  the  job  on  the  cars  after  he'd 
had  to  wait  a  week,  and  they  put  him  on  the  Brooklyn 
run  the  first  day.  He  said  he  was  in  luck  to  get  that. 
There  was  hundreds  was  trying  for  it,  besides.  But 
maybe  you  know  what  that  run's  like,  out  front 
where  they  won't  give  them  no  shelter.  And  it  was 
a  bad  day,  raining  and  freezing  and  blowing.  That 
night  he  come  back  to  the  room  we'd  got  in  a  rotten 
old  tenement.  We  had  a  little  coal  and  I  tried  to 
warm  him  up.  He  said  he  couldn't  keep  the  job,  that 
he  was  past  being  any  good  to  me,  and  I'd  better  be 
alone  than  have  a  dying  man  out  of  work  on  my  hands. 
He  sent  me  out  to  a  saloon  on  the  corner  to  get  him 
some  whiskey."  She  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  her 
fingers  flapped  a  tassel  on  the  chair  arm  nervously. 
"  When  I  come  back,"  she  finished,  "  he'd  shot  himself 
—  through  the  head." 

She  had  been  looking  away  from  Manning,  straight 
in  front  of  her.  Now  she  turned  her  eyes  to  meet  his 
full,  and  with  a  harsh,  uneasy  laugh  that  gave  him  a 
shock  greater  than  any  tears,  she  asked,  "  Somehow,  I 
don't  seem  to  run  in  luck,  do  I  ?  " 


348  CAPTAINS   OF   THE    WOKLD 

He  got  the  story  from  her  more  in  detail.  She  told 
him  of  the  funeral  which  had  taken  all  but  a  very  few  dol 
lars  of  her  savings.  Those  she  had  used  to  come  back 
here,  where  she  had  friends  and  might  more  easily  find 
work.  "  I've  got  to  go  on  living,"  she  stated,  recog 
nizing  the  fact  without  sentiment,  since  there  was  not 
in  her  nature  that  strain  which  had  made  it  possible 
for  her  suffering  and  disheartened  young  husband  to 
put  an  end  to  his  existence  upon  an  earth  where  he  had 
become  but  one  of  the  superfluous. 

"  I  stayed  down  in  the  waiting-room  at  the  depot 
last  night  after  the  train  come  in,"  she  told  him.  "  It 
was  warm  there,  and  the  lady,  she  let  me,  because  I 
ain't  got  any  money  left,  —  not  a  nickel.  I  want  you 
should  lend  me  some,  till  I  find  work." 

She  had  no  more  hesitation  about  coming  to  him 
with  such  demands  than  in  the  days  when  she  had 
been  a  scantily  clad  and  ill-fed  little  pariah  of  the 
Staunton  streets. 

To  any  one  who  knew  her  less  well  than  did  Manning, 
it  might  have  seemed  that  she  took  her  husband's 
suicide  with  an  ugly  indifference  and  want  of  feeling. 
But  he  understood  her  better.  He  had  seen  her, 
years  before,  swaggering  around  among  her  playmates 
of  the  tenements,  red-eyed,  pinched-faced,  denying  that 
she  had  cried  over  the  baby's  death,  fighting  with  fists 
and  feet  and  finger  nails  two  or  three  children  who  had 
twitted  her  with  it.  The  want  of  somebody  or  some- 


349 

thing  to  take  care  of,  which  had  once  expended  itself 
upon  the  baby,  was  still  strong  in  her,  and  Manning 
had  always  believed  it  to  play  a  large  part  in  her  affec 
tion  for  the  husband  in  whose  character  had  been  a 
slight  tinge  of  weakness  and  dependence,  due  in  part, 
no  doubt,  to  his  ill  health. 

Sitting  there  before  him,  in  her  poor  and  insufficient 
clothing,  her  wiry  hair  standing  out  in  straight  locks 
which  showed  now  not  even  an  attempt  to  curl,  her 
skin  red  and  blue  from  the  outer  cold,  her  whole  atti 
tude  expressing  a  defiant  determination  not  to  show 
the  grief  and  weariness  she  felt  —  she  was  a  pathetic 
enough  figure  to  any  one  who  knew  her  whole  story. 
Where  in  the  upper  walks  of  life,  Manning  asked  him 
self,  would  one  have  found  a  young  girl  who  would 
have  been  able,  from  earliest  childhood  days,  to  have 
shouldered  the  responsibilities  which  Nettie  had  borne, 
who  would  have  showed  her  endurance,  her  pluck,  and 
resource  under  every  odd  ?  It  is  a  comfortable  theory 
for  the  fortunate  that  merit  must  always  win  out,  the 
fit  survive. 

She  would,  he  foresaw,  go  out  from  here  and  manage 
before  long  to  find  work  —  she  was  of  those  who  are 
certain  to  find  it  —  and  eventually  she  would  have 
acquired  some  one  to  protect  and  take  care  of,  whether 
it  should  be  another  husband  or  merely  one  as  unfor 
tunate  as  herself,  but  more  weak. 

He  learned  her  plans  for  the  present,  got  her  promise 


350  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WOULD 

to  report  to  him  the  results  of  her  search  for  work,  and 
having  given  her  the  five  dollars,  which  was  all  she 
would  consent  to  borrow,  he  went  with  her  to  the 
entrance  of  the  hotel. 

Then  he  turned  back  into  the  lobby,  and  going  to  the 
news  stand  bought  a  paper.  As  a  rule  he  read  it  at  his 
breakfast,  but  this  morning  he  had  had  a  pamphlet,  in 
which  he  was  interested,  to  finish. 

He  retired  now  to  a  quiet  corner  in  the  writing- 
room,  where  there  was  no  one  else  save  a  middle-aged 
woman  sitting  at  a  desk  engaged  in  what  appeared  to 
be  the  mentally  and  physically  laborious  task  of  writing 
a  letter. 

He  read  for  some  time,  glancing  through  the  many 
columns,  rattling  the  paper  as  he  turned  the  sheets, 
and  laying  aside  one  section  after  another.  Suddenly 
he  made  a  movement  of  so  much  abruptness  that  the 
woman  at  the  desk  threw  a  questioning  glance  in  his 
direction.  She  could,  however,  see  nothing  of  his  face, 
which  was  hidden  behind  the  journal.  She  went  again 
at  her  writing. 

Before  long  he  stooped  over,  and  gathering  up  the 
scattering  sections,  folded  them  roughly  together  and 
went  out.  She  turned  her  head  and  peered  after  him. 
He  had  the  look  of  a  man  who  had  received  some  blow 
of  more  than  common  severity,  or  who  might  be  capable 
of  doing1  a  relentless  murder. 

o 

He  went  up  the  stairs  to  his  own  room.     There  he 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WOKLD  351 

threw  down  upon  the  table  all  of  the  paper  he  did  not 
want,  saving  out  one  part.  He  walked  with  this  to 
the  window,  and  standing  there  read  through  again  the 
staring  headlines,  and  the  detailed  account  of  Lockhart's 
speech  at  the  small  meeting  upon  the  previous  night. 

A  portion  of  the  speech  was  given  in  full,  the  re 
porter  having  euphonized  the  speaker's  phrases.  It 
contained  the  accusation  that  the  Staunton  strike  in 
Alan  Tennant's  time  had  been  a  failure  because  the 
chairman  of  the  advisory  committee  had  deliberately 
lost  it,  sold  the  interests  of  the  workmen  for  the  sake, 
and  at  the  instigation,  of  a  woman  with  whom  he  was 
in  love  —  "a  woman  who  would  never  have  looked  at 
him,"  the  reporter  quoted,  "  except  with  the  contempt 
that  she  had  learned  from  her  father  to  bestow  on  the 
honest  toiler,  a  woman  whose  broken  flowers  that  she 
threw  away  Neil  Manning  had  picked  out  of  the  gutters 
and  kept,  whose  picture  he  carried  around  with  him  in 
a  velvet  case."  And  he  had  spoken  of  Beatrice  by  her 
name. 

Manning's  first  intention,  too  deliberate  to  be  called 
an  impulse,  was  to  find  Lockhart  and  kill  him.  Then 
he  began  to  realize  that  any  such  course,  however  grati 
fying  to  himself,  would  make  much  worse  a  situation 
already  sufficiently  bad  for  Miss  Tennant.  Had  there 
not  been  that  to  consider,  he  would  have  found  satis 
faction  in  shooting  Lockhart  down  and  accepting  the 
consequences. 


352  CAPTAINS    OF   THE    WORLD 

It  was  not  the  charge  against  himself  which  angered 
him  —  he  had  disregarded  or  disproved  others  of  the 
sort  too  many  times  before  —  but  to  have  the  love 
which  he  himself  would  have  died  before  desecrating 
by  speaking  of  it  to  any  living  being  thus  dragged  out 
and  flung  to  the  mob,  to  have  Beatrice's  name  —  that 
of  a  woman  who  was  without  rightful  protector  — 
bandied  about  among  the  lowest  men,  spoken  of  con 
temptuously,  spitefully,  by  such  a  creature  as  Lockhart ! 

And  he  was  certain  whence  it  must  have  come.  He 
knew  of  Lockhart's  relations  with  Mrs.  Kemble. 

But  Beatrice  Tennant  —  how  would  she  account  for 
it?  He  had  asked  her  to  believe  in  him,  but  this 
would  be  too  great  a  test  for  any  loyalty  or  faith. 

Whatever  else  was  to  be  done  about  it,  he  must 
justify  himself  to  her.  Upon  that  he  determined.  As 
for  the  course  he  should  take  after  that  —  But  was 
not  she  herself  the  one  to  dictate  it  to  him? 

He  gave  it  some  minutes  of  consideration,  and  ended 
with  the  decision  that  since  she  was  the  one  most 
affected,  she  should  be  also  the  one  to  say  what  she 
wished  done  in  the  matter.  To  give  her  this  oppor 
tunity,  he  must  either  write  his  explanation  to  her,  or 
see  her  in  person  and  give  it  verbally.  He  tried  to  be 
honest  with  himself  in  not  allowing  the  wish  to  see 
her  to  be  father  to  the  thought  that  he  should  —  that  it 
would  be  the  most  thoroughly  satisfactory  method  for 
both  of  them.  Yet  it  might  be  that  he  half  uncon- 


CAPTAINS  OF   THE   WORLD  353 

sciously  exaggerated  the  difficulties  which  putting  upon 
paper  what  he  had  to  say  would  present.  He  gave  it 
thought,  but  he  concluded  the  argument  and  conflict 
of  inclinations  by  the  decision  that  it  would  be  better 
to  see  her.  How  could  he  write  certain  things  in  such 
a  way  as  to  be  sure  that  she  would  understand  them  ? 
The  written  sentence  could  convey  to  the  reader  a 
totally  different  impression  from  that  which  it  was 
meant  to  have.  And  it  would  be  one  thing  to  let  her 
know  in  words  that  Mrs.  Kemble  had  been  in  his  room 
—  but  set  upon  paper — what  would  be  the  effect? 
Altogether,  to  write  would  almost  certainly  prove  as 
unsatisfactory  to  her  as  to  himself.  And,  in  a  way, 
it  would  constrain  her  to  a  reply  in  kind,  whereas 
she  might  much  prefer  not  to  be  sending  him 
letters. 

He  took  out  his  watch  and  looked  at  it.  At  eleven 
o'clock  he  was  to  address  a  very  large  mass-meeting 
of  workingmen.  It  was  now  a  quarter  after  ten.  He 
could  not  make  it  possible  to  see  Beatrice  before  the 
meeting  —  even  supposing  that  she  should  consent  at 
all  to  having  him  do  so.  In  any  case  he  must  get  her 
permission,  and  be  told  when  and  where  he  was  to 
present  himself.  To  that  end  he  would  send  a  note 
to  the  Durran  house  by  a  messenger,  who  could  bring 
the  reply  —  should  there  prove  to  be  one  —  to  the  hall 
where  the  meeting  was  to  be  held. 

If   Lockhart  were  to  be  at  the   hall —     His   teeth 

2A 


354  CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD 

shut  together  and  his  fists  clinched.  Under  no  provo 
cation  would  he  allow  himself  to  take  any  step  until 
he  should  have  learned  from  Beatrice  her  will. 

He  sat  down  to  his  desk  for  the  writing  of  a  note 
which,  though  very  brief,  was  yet  the  most  difficult  he 
had  ever  been  obliged  to  undertake. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

He  will  not  be  Thou,  but  must  be  himself,  another  than  Thou. 

—  CAKLYLE. 

IT  was  Beatrice  Tennant's  intention  to  go  to-day 
over  to  Lester's  church  in  Staunton,  since  it  might  be 
long  before  she  would  be  able  to  do  so  again.  She  was 
therefore  ready  rather  early,  and,  coming  downstairs, 
on  her  way  out  she  passed  the  library  door.  It  was 
open,  and  she  saw  Durran  sitting  by  the  window, 
reading  the  paper.  In  his  comfortable  chair,  with  the 
light  falling  through  costly  lace  curtains  upon  his  sleek 
brown  hair  and  freshly  shaven  and  powdered  face,  in 
his  smoking  jacket  of  black  velvet  just  brightened  by  a 
dull  red  cord,  with  his  large,  white,  well-kept  hands, 
he  made,  a  satisfactory  picture  of  the  best  type  of  a 
prosperous  and  active  young  American  man  of  affairs, 
at  the  moment  taking  a  well-earned  ease.  As  Beatrice 
stopped  to  consider  the  scene,  feeling  the  presence  of  a 
watcher,  perhaps,  he  looked  toward  the  door  and  saw 
her. 

"  Will  you  come  in  here,  for  a  minute,  please  ?  "  he 
said,  rising. 

She  went  forward,  and  Durran,  taking  up  a  sheet  of 

355 


356  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

the  voluminous  Sunday  journal,  gave  it  to  her  without 
a  word,  but  indicating  with  the  eye-glasses  he  had  re 
moved,  a  headline,  black  and  large,  which  ran  entirely 
across  the  page,  in  the  middle. 

At  the  first  instantaneous  glance,  she  saw  her  own 
name  and  that  of  Neil  Manning.  Her  face  whitened, 
and  her  lips  parted  with  a  catch  of  the  breath.  Durran, 
observing  her  narrowly,  saw  it,  and  his  own  face  took 
on  a  look  of  extreme  displeasure.  But  Beatrice  was  not 
heeding  him.  He  moved  a  chair  nearer  to  her.  She 
either  did  not  see  it  or  care  to  take  it,  for  she  remained 
standing  and  reading. 

After  the  first  sudden  paleness,  she  showed  no  further 
sign  than  a  slight  trembling  of  the  hands,  which  only 
some  one  watching  her  as  closely  as  was  Durran  would 
have  seen. 

This  time  that  he  had  taken  her  totally  unprepared 
was  the  first  sight  of  anything  deeper  than  the  appar 
ently  calm,  unemotional  surface  of  her  life,  that,  in 
more  than  a  dozen  years  of  knowing  her,  he  had  ever 
been  allowed  to  get.  He  had  never  supposed  that  a 
young  woman  of  her  rather  unusual  force  of  will  and 
attraction,  one  who  had  led  her  unguarded  and  inde 
pendent  life  had,  in  the  depths  of  her  nature,  been 
always  as  unperturbed,  unstirred,  as  she  would  have 
made  it  seem  to  the  unimaginative  majority  of  her 
acquaintances.  But  this  particular  revelation  of  what  she 
had  kept  hidden  and  silent  was  a  shock  to  him,  a  disil- 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  357 

lusion.  That  the  connection  of  Manning's  name  with 
her  own  was  in  her  mind  as  well  as  in  the  journal,  he 
had  had  to  recognize  when  he  had  seen  her  pale  at 
the  first  quick  vision  of  the  headlines.  He  kept  silence 
as  she  read  the  article  through,  slowly.  Then,  as  she 
turned  to  take  the  chair,  he  sat  again  in  his  own. 

"  That,"  he  said  gravely,  "  is  a  most  unfortunate 
matter." 

"  It  is  very  unfortunate,"  she  acquiesced,  "  both  for 
Neil  Manning  and  myself." 

"  Manning  is  a  man,  and  his  shoulders  are  broad,"  he 
said  shortly.  "  But  you  are  a  young  woman  with  no 
natural  protector.  It  is  most  unpleasant,  to  say  the 
least  of  it." 

Beatrice  felt  a  dull  resentment  rising  at  his  tone. 

"  After  all,  it  is  not  a  dire  disgrace  that  a  man  should 
have  cared  for  me  —  though  he  was  of  the  same  class  to 
which  I  belonged  for  long  after  I  was  born." 

There  came  to  him  the  old  wish  that  Beatrice  would 
not  so  aggressively  insist  upon  her  origin. 

"  It  is  not  desirable  that  the  story  of  any  such  epi 
sodes  in  a  girl's  life  should  get  into  print  at  all,"  he 
said.  "  Of  course  you  cannot  prevent  men  of  any  class 
from  falling  in  love  with  you,  but  it  is  not  pleasant  to 
have  gossip  for  the  mob  made  out  of  it  —  even  at  the 
best." 

"  Yet  nobody  seemed  to  take  any  great  exception  to 
it  when  the  press  rose  to  heights  of  rhetoric  over  Prince 


358  CAPTAINS   OF   THE    WORLD 

Valerio  and  myself.  Is  it  so  much  more  creditable  to  be 
asked  in  marriage  by  a  noble  for  whom  one's  money  is 
the  guiding  consideration,  than  to  be  simply  loved  from 
afar  by  a  respectable  worker,  who  has  not  thought  of 
asking  anything  ?•" 

"  You  can't  make  it,  Beatrice,"  he  said,  with  badly 
hidden  annoyance.  "There  is  a  difference,  and  you 
know  it,  though  it  may  be  one  of  those  subtle  differ 
ences  which,  like  a  good  many  other  subtle  but  unde 
niable  things,  elude  expression  in  words." 

"  Very  well,"  she  agreed,  with  a  smile  half  of  assent, 
half  of  some  underlying  determination.  "  I  will  grant 
that  there  is  a  difference  which  may  affect  others, 
but  it  does  not  affect  me.  If  others  find  the  situation 
something  very  nearly  disgraceful,  as  you  evidently 
do,  John,  why  I  must  be  lacking  in  feeling  or  discern 
ment,  for  I  do  not." 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  it  occurred  to  him  that 
he  had  perhaps  escaped  well  in  that  Beatrice  had  not 
married  him. 

She  leaned  easily  forward  on  the  arm  of  her  chair, 
looking  into  his  face.  "  But  you  have  been  always 
the  one  who  has  said  the  finest  things  of  him,"  she 
reminded.  "  You  have  called  him  a  good  man  person 
ally,  and  one  of  very  considerable  ability,  —  far  above 
the  average  in  any  walk  of  life.  You  have  even  said 
that  he  presents  a  good  deal  better  appearance  than 
many  of  the  men  we  know,  who  have  turned  their 


CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WOULD  359 

talents  to  money-making  instead  of  the  practical  hand 
ling  of  social  problems." 

"  That  is  exactly  how  I  see  him  —  taken  in  relation 
to  other  men,"  answered  Durran.  "  But  it  is  not  his 
aspect  in  relation  to  a  woman  like  yourself." 

She  started  to  answer,  but  he  interrupted  her. 

"  My  dear  Beatrice,  you  surely  must  see  it  just  as  it 
shows  forth  in  the  story  in  the  paper.  Can't  you  un 
derstand  that  he  has  been  so  indelicate  as  to  discuss 
you  with  others  —  to  bandy  your  name  about  among 
rough,  low  men,  like  Lockhart  ?  " 

Beatrice's  voice  was  ominously  soft  as  she  an 
swered  :  — 

"You  may  take  my  word  for  it,  John,  that  he 
has  never  spoken  of  me  in  any  such  connection  to 
a  living  being.  If  there  is  one  thing  upon  which 
I  would  stake  my  own  name,  it  is  upon  his  entire 
respect." 

"  Then  there  is  but  one  other  supposition,"  said 
Durran.  "  Some  one  has  found  out  that  of  which  he 
did  not  speak.  The  most  natural  deduction  in  that 
case  is,  that  it  was  some  woman  with  whom  he  was 
upon  intimate  terms." 

"  That  is  a  very  unjustifiable  deduction,  it  seems  to 
me,"  she  said  coldly. 

"  Have  you  a  better  to  offer  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  she  told  him.  "  I  will  wait  for  his  ex 
planation." 


360  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

Durran  kept  down  his  impatience  with  her.  He 
turned  off  from  that  phase  of  the  argument. 

"Is  this  true  about  —  the  flowers  and  the  photo 
graph?"  he  asked,  with  a  visible  distaste. 

Beatrice  answered  that  she  did  not  know,  but  be 
lieved  it  possible. 

How  had  Manning  obtained  that  photograph?  he 
asked  to  be  informed. 

"  Unless  it  was  one — a  tintype  —  which  I  had  taken 
as  a  child,  and  gave  to  his  mother  —  I  can't  say,"  she 
replied,  a  little  restive  under  the  cross-questioning. 

This,  however,  Durran  clearly  did  not  mean  to  let 
drop  at  once. 

"  Does  he  keep  up  this  undesirable  sentiment  toward 
you  yet  ?  "  he  said. 

"He  has  not  told  me  so,  if  he  does,"  she  evaded. 
"  And,  for  that  matter,  he  would  not  have  done  so  in 
the  past  had  I  not  discovered  it  by  an  unfortunate 
mischance." 

Could  she,  he  inquired,  suggest  anything  that  had 
better  be  done.  He  put  himself  at  her  disposal  if  she 
should  think  that  he  could  be  of  service. 

She  sat  considering  it.  She  was  aware  that  it  was  now 
too  late  for  her  to  start  for  Lester's  church,  and  in  any 
case  she  did  not  want  to  go  either  to  Staunton,  or  else 
where  in  public,  while  this  story  in  the  paper  was  yet 
so  fresh  and  sure  to  be  everywhere  talked  of.  She  was 
not,  in  fact,  so  indifferent  to  the  position  in  which  she 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE   WORLD  361 

was  placed  as  she  chose,  through  a  defensive  sort  of 
pride,  to  let  Durran  think. 

"Is  there  anything  I  can  do,"  she  said  at  length, 
"  except  pass  it  over  in  silence  ?  If  there  is  any 
step  to  be  taken  it  will  have  to  be  upon  his  part,  I 
should  say." 

"  Then  if  you  will  allow  me  to  do  for  you  that  which 
you  have  no  father  or  brother  to  do,"  Durran  proffered, 
"I  will  see  Manning,  and  prevent  anything  which  might 
make  the  matter  worse." 

Beatrice  gave  it  thought  again,  but  she  had  no  good 
or  tenable  reason  for  withholding  her  consent,  and  she 
gave  it,  —  though,  Durran  could  see,  a  trifle  reluc 
tantly. 

"  You  must  act,"  she  ventured,  "  upon  the  suppo 
sition  that  he  feels  it  far  more  than  even  I  do  —  and 
that  he  will  suffer  from  it  more  than  I.  You  will  do 
that  ?  "  she  urged. 

He  had  just  agreed  when  there  was  a  sweeping  of 
silk  skirts  down  the  stairs  and  through  the  hall,  and 
Evelyn  hurried  into  the  library,  an  excited  and  hor 
rified  face  above  the  elaborate  toilet  she  had  been 
making  preparatory  to  herself  going  to  church. 

"  Beatrice  !  "  she  cried.  "  Have  you  seen  the  pa 
per  ?  Have  you  seen  the  terrible,  disgraceful  thing 
about  you  and  —  that  man?" 

By  way  of  answer,  Beatrice  showed  the  sheet  in 
her  lap. 


362  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WOULD 

Diirran,  who  knew  that  his  wife  had  not  seen  the 
paper,  but  must  have  got  the  news  just  now  from  her 
maid,  —  as  he  had  been  unable  to  cure  her  of  getting 
much  other,  —  made  an  angry  movement  and  looked 
black. 

Evelyn's  sympathy  was  as  intense  as  her  excitement, 
and  she  expressed  both  almost  hysterically,  not  feeling 
just  at  first  that  Beatrice  was  not  only  calm  under  the 
shame,  but  something  very  like  icily  cold  —  with  a 
coldness  which  was,  it  might  have  seemed,  principally 
directed  toward  herself. 

"This,"  she  went  on  unwarned,  "is  the  result  of 
doing  what  I  told  you  you  ought  not.  This  comes  of 
being  friendly  with  horrid,  coarse  people  like  that  man." 

"  Evelyn  — "  Beatrice's  voice  was  like  an  irre 
sistible  hand  put  out  to  hold  her  with  a  force  in 
which  she  could  not  move.  "Please  don't  keep  on 
saying  things  of  that  sort." 

Evelyn  subsided  instantly,  but  was  aggrieved. 
"Don't  you  care?"  she  said.  "Are  you  insensible  to 
anything  so  mortifying?  You  are  unusual  and  indif 
ferent,  I  know,  but  surely  you  must  feel  this?''1 
Beatrice  admitted  that  she  was  not  pleased  with  it 
—  a  phrase  the  inadequateness  of  which  gave  poor 
Evelyn  a  feeling  of  impotence  before  such  blunted 
sensibilities. 

Durran  had  gone  to  the  telephone,  and  he  came 
back  into  the  room  now,  with  the  report  that  Man- 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  363 

ning  had  left  his  hotel.  "  He  has  probably  gone 
to  address  the  mass-meeting,"  he  opined,  looking 
deeply  annoyed.  "It  is  most  to  be  regretted.  He 
will  probably  get  into  a  quarrel  with  Lockhart,  or 
be  led  into  defending  himself  there;  and  the  whole 
business  will  be  made  worse.  It  won't  do  for  me 
to  go  there  to  see  him.  I  should  almost  certainly  be 
too  late  to  stop  him  —  and  the  fact  of  my  presence 
would  be  seized  upon  by  the  reporters  as  a  choice 
tidbit." 

A  footman,  discreetly  unobservant  of  the  dis 
turbed  faces,  came  in  with  a  note  for  Miss  Tennant, 
and  the  information  that  a  messenger  was  waiting 
for  a  reply.  He  withdrew,  and  Beatrice,  opening  the 
note,  read  it.  Then  she  passed  it  over  to  Durran, 
without  other  comment  than  the  statement  that  it 
was  from  Manning. 

It  contained,  very  briefly,  Manning's  request  that 
he  might  see  her  for  the  purpose  of  offering  her  cer 
tain  explanations  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  write. 
And  it  gave  her  the  assurance  that  until  he  should 
have  some  expression  of  her  wishes  he  would  treat 
the  entire  matter  with  absolute  silence.  The  word 
ing  was  that  of  one  more  used  to  business  communi 
cations  than  to  notes  of  this  nature,  but  Evelyn,  who 
read  it  over  her  husband's  shoulder,  was  perhaps 
unconsciously  surprised  not  to  find  it  misspelled  or 
ungrammatical. 


364  CAPTAINS    OF   THE   WORLD 

Durran's  brow,  which  had  grown  more  clouded  at 
the  first  lines,  cleared  as  he  finished. 

"I  give  him  credit  for  showing  good  judgment," 
he  said.  And  then  he  added  a  supposition  that 
Beatrice  of  course  intended  to  see  him  —  to  have 
him  come  here. 

Beatrice  glanced  at  Evelyn,  whose  face  was, 
without  need  for  words,  a  protest  of  dismay. 

"I  am  afraid  that  would  be  rather  more  than 
Evelyn  could  stand,"  she  said. 

"  Evelyn  will,  naturally,  consider  what  is  best  for 
you,"  answered  Durran  for  his  wife,  in  a  tone  of 
decision,  which  admitted  no  differing  upon  that 
much-tried  little  lady's  part.  "This  is,  for  the  pres 
ent,  your  home.  And  it  is  the  proper  place  for  you 
to  see  him." 

Beatrice,  accepting  it,  went  to  write  her  answer. 
Having  sent  it,  she  came  back  to  the  library.  Dur 
ran  was  not  there,  but  Evelyn  remained.  She  also 
had  decided  not  to  go  to  church,  where  she  would 
have  to  meet  at  least  the  inquiring  and  pitying  looks 
of  her  friends.  She  reverted  to  the  subject  at  once, 
expressing  herself  decidedly  and  asking  all  manner 
of  questions. 

Beatrice's  temper  was  not,  in  fact,  so  even  as  in 
appearance.  Her  anger  was  not  slow,  though  it  was 
long  in  expressing  itself.  But  it  was  now  very 
thoroughly  roused,  and  rather  than  be  provoked  by 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD  365 

Evelyn  to  some  expression  of  it,  she  presently  went 
away  and  up  to  her  own  room,  under  the  plea  of 
making  ready  her  trunk  —  her  departure  having  been 
for  a  week  past  decided  upon  for  that  evening. 

She  did  not  fancy  being  looked  upon  as  one  almost 
disgraced,  involved  in  and  polluted  by  a  scandal.  She 
was  glad  that  she  would  be  going  to  where  she  would 
be  less  in  the  thick  of  commiserating  acquaintances, 
ready  to  discuss  the  affair  threadbare,  —  many  of  them, 
too,  secretly  enjoying  her  position,  as  a  judgment  upon 
her  for  her  former  aloofness  and  that  belief  in  one's 
own  superiority  which  independence  of  thought  and 
action  must  always  be  taken  to  imply,  thereby  proving 
a  cause  of  irritation. 

In  New  York,  where  she  would  remain  for  the  pres 
ent,  at  any  rate,  the  chances  would  be  good  that  very 
few  would  have  heard  of  the  article  in  the  paper.  And 
there  she  would  be  untrammelled  by  that  particular  sort 
of  solemnly  petty  mummery  and  etiquette  which  vexed 
her  here  with  Evelyn  and  Evelyn's  kind,  to  whom  it 
represented  the  reality  of  life. 

Instead  of  setting  at  once  about  her  packing,  she  went 
and  stood  by  the  window,  looking  over  at  the  great, 
cold,  white  granite  house,  set  back  among  the  trees, 
whose  branches  were  leafless  now.  She  thought  of  her 
self  as  she  had  been  when  she  had  lived  in  there.  She 
saw  again  the  many  scenes  which  had  taken  place 
within  those  gray  stone  walls.  The  evening  when 


366  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

Valeric  had  first  come  there  and  when  she  had  sat  talk 
ing  to  him  in  the  buff  and  gold  drawing-room,  aware, 
even  then,  that  she,  daughter  of  a  workingman,  would 
have  it  in  her  power  to  become  a  princess. 

The  evening  of  the  ball,  when  she  had  told  Durran 
of  her  decision  to  marry  the  prince,  and  when  she  had 
come  alone  down  the  wide  stairway,  between  banks  of 
plants  and  flowers,  feeling  behind  her,  and  dragging 
upon  her  jewel-laden  shoulders,  the  gown  heavy  with 
cloth  of  gold — upon  her  heart  another  dragging  weight, 
in  the  consciousness  of  her  riches,  her  present  impor 
tance  and  responsibilities,  her  future  rank  and  titles. 

The  morning  when  she  had  stood  by  her  father's  bed 
and  accepted  Valerio  to  be  her  husband.  The  day,  so 
soon  thereafter,  when  she  had  told  him  that  she  could 
not  marry  him,  had  let  him  go  away,  and  then  had 
turned  back  into  the  silent  house,  a  lonely  young  figure 
in  her  black,  clinging  draperies  of  mourning,  but  abso 
lute  mistress  of  her  large  fortune  and  of  herself. 

The  years  which  were  ahead  of  her  —  they  would  be 
little  like  those  passed  in  the  white  granite  mansion. 
She,  who  had  so  long  been  accustomed  to  prominence, 
to  counting  largely  in  her  world,  would  be  henceforth 
merely  one  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  unmarried 
women  of  very  moderate  means,  would  sink  into  an 
insignificance  from  which  she  had  no  special  talent  or 
ability  that  could  raise  her. 

She  would  have  friends  still,  probably  many  of  them 


CAPTAINS   OF  THE  WORLD  367 

— among  those  who  cared  for  herself.  But  all  the  host 
of  those  who  had  been  wont  to  seek  her  favor  and  court 
her  chiefly  because  of  that  wealth  which  was,  in  their 
eyes,  her  first  quality  and  recommendation  —  those 
would  speedily  let  her  drop  from  their  lives  and 
thoughts.  She  did  not  delude  herself  as  to  that.  She 
had  already  seen  the  evidences  of  it.  It  had  hurt  her 
not  a  little  —  inevitably.  Yet  she  would  not  miss 
them,  she  knew  that,  too.  She  herself  would  forget 
them. 

The  proper  solution  of  her  future,  as  most  women  in 
a  position  with  so  dull  and  lonely  an  outlook  would 
have  seen  it,  would  doubtless  be  to  marry,  if  she  should 
have  an  offer  from  any  one  of  sufficient  social  position 
and  means  to  be  considered  a  fairly  good  match.  But 
she  could  not  now,  any  more  than  in  the  past,  be  capa 
ble  of  marrying  for  a  home  and  a  husband. 

She  would  prefer  to  that  even  a  colorless  and  medi 
ocre  spinsterhood,  whatever  might  be  the  opinions  and 
wishes  of  those  who  ranked  themselves,  more  or  less 
truly,  her  friends. 

What  was  it  that  a  poet  of  the  twelfth  century  had 
written,  experiencing,  even  then,  the  eternal  sameness 
of  human  nature. 

Ce  sont  amis  que  vens  importe, 
Et  il  ventoit  devant  ma  porte. 

Why  should  she  be  capable  only  of  negative  opposi 
tion  of  the  ideas  of  these  friends,  of  friendship  so  light 


368  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

that  the  wind  of  adversity  could  blow  it  away?  Did 
her  independence  of  their  verdicts  only  extend  to  not 
marrying  some  man  whom  she  did  not  want  ?  Or  was 
it  equal  to  carrying  her  so  far  as  to  marry  to  suit  her 
self,  regardless  of  any  strictures  they  might  choose  to 
pass  upon  her  actions  ? 

Would  she  simply  end  by  being  yet  another  of  the 
great  pusillanimous  majority,  one  of  those  who  allow 
their  lives  to  be  shaped  by  the  standards  of  some  for 
whose  opinions  and  mental  capacity  they  have  never 
theless  only  complete  contempt? 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

Y  puede  decirse  de  eU,  lo  que  de  pocos  —  que  de  la  tela  de  sus 
suenos  cortd  su  destino. 

And  it  may  be  said  of  him,  that  which  may  be  said  of  few  — 
that  from  the  cloth  of  his  dreams  he  cut  his  destiny. 

—  PARDO  BAZAN.    Los  Padres  del  Santo. 

IT  was  in  the  convention  hall  in  which  he  had  years 
since  made  his  first  public  speech  of  importance  that 
Manning  was  this  morning  to  make  another  to  a  very 
similar  and  an  even  larger  body  of  men. 

And  as  that  occasion  had  been  one  which  was  to 
determine  much  in  his  future,  so  was  this  one  to  be 
either  a  triumph  or  a  failure  which  would  put  an  end 
forever  to  his  further  pursuing  his  work  as  a  leader  and 
director  of  organized  labor. 

The  way  in  which  the  men  should  prove  to  have 
taken  Lockhart's  accusation  —  which  all  would  to  a 
certainty  have  heard  or  read  —  would  decide  his 
course.  If  they  believed  the  accusations,  he  could  no 
longer,  in  honor,  hold  his  place  as  their  representative 
in  any  capacity.  He  would  have  left  him  no  choice 
save  to  step  down  and  out,  discredited.  The  greeting 
he  would  receive  in  going  upon  the  platform  would 
amount  either  to  an  expression  of  no  confidence,  or 
2n  369 


370  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

an  acclamation  of  their  sympathy  and  belief  in  his 
integrity. 

He  had  come  so  late  that  he  did  not  go  into  the  hall 
by  the  main  entrance,  but  by  a  rear  one,  reached 
through  an  alley  between  high  walls,  and  which  led 
directly  into  the  passage  behind  the  stage. 

As  he  crossed  that  passageway,  narrow,  musty,  and 
dark,  he  felt  his  heart  cease  beating,  his  whole  body 
turn  painfully  cold,  the  nerves  in  his  brain  tighten  in 
the  dread  of  uncertainty.  He  opened  the  little  door 
and  stepped  from  the  darkness  into  a  full  light,  out 
upon  the  platform. 

Down  on  the  great  floor  before  him  was  the  human 
mass,  crowding  away  to  the  distant  wall,  piling  up 
blackly  into  the  galleries  —  a  mass  in  fact,  an  enormous 
aggregation  without  separateness,  a  sombre  background 
against  which  showed  vaguely  to  his  blurred  vision 
countless  white  things  in  rows,  which  were  faces. 

He  knew  that  he  must  have  been  seen,  have  been 
recognized.  But  except  for  the  undercurrent  of  shuf 
fling,  of  moving  always  in  the  stillest  crowd  —  there 
was  silence. 

He  forced  down  his  inclination  to  stop.  With  his 
head  held  more  erect  than  usual  and  his  forward  bent 
shoulders  squared,  looking  straight  and  sweepingly  over 
the  building,  as  was  his  common  habit,  he  kept  on  to 
the  seat  which  had  been  put  ready  for  him.  And  even 
as  he  did  so,  his  ears  caught  the  rustle  that  they  had 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  371 

learned  to  know,  and  there  burst  out  a  roar,  a  pound 
ing,  a  rending  thunder  of  applause,  like  none  which  had 
ever  greeted  him  before.  It  fell — and  began  again,  with 
shouts  now,  and  shrill,  whistling  calls. 

It  stopped.  It  recommenced.  Over  and  over  it 
wore  itself  out,  took  new  strength,  and  swelled  into 
enthusiasm.  He  knew  that  it  could  have  but  one 
meaning,  that  it  was  the  expression  not  only  of  their 
appreciation  of  that  which  he  had  done  in  the  two 
weeks  just  passed,  but  their  belief  in  him  at  all  times, 
their  discredit  of  Lockhart's  dastardly  attack,  their 
sympathy  with  him  because  of  it. 

*#*#*## 

It  was  well  on  into  the  afternoon,  far  later  than  he 
had  expected  it  to  be,  when  he  was  able  at  length  to 
leave  those  who  crowded  to  congratulate  him,  and  turn 
off  alone  in  the  direction  of  Durran's  house,  walking 
hurriedly.  The  outflux  from  the  hall  was  so  filling  the 
cars  in  all  directions  as  to  have  made  it  a  slow  matter 
to  take  them,  and  in  any  case  his  movements  would  be 
less  observed  were  he  to  go  on  foot,  keeping  to  the  less 
frequented  streets.  Upon  Beatrice's  account  he  did  not 
wish  it  to  be  known  that  he  had  gone  to  the  house 
where  she  was  staying.  It  might  make  another  story 
for  the  reporter. 

The  footman,  obeying  the  order  received  from  his 
embarrassed  and  mortified  mistress,  sent  him  into  a 
little  reception  room  at  the  far  end  of  the  hall,  drawing 


372  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

together  the  draperies  across  the  door.  It  was  a  room 
which  was  seldom  used,  and  into  which  he  had  been 
particularly  instructed  to  show  no  one  else  who  might 
chance  to  come. 

Manning  stood  making  pretence  of  looking  at  the 
water-colors  upon  the  wall,  though  he  saw  them  so 
little  that  if  it  had  suddenly  been  asked  him  what  they 
represented,  his  mind  would  have  been  a  blank.  He 
was  only  really  aware  that  he  was  in  a  tiny  place  of 
pink  and  blue  and  gilt,  with  which  his  own  large- 
limbed,  dark-clothed  self  was  quite  incongruous  —  and 
that  Beatrice  would  soon  join  him,  when  he  would 
have  to  say  to  her  things  so  difficult  that  he  had  given 
over  planning  them  and  had  left  the  words  he  should 
use  to  chance. 

But  this  time  that  he  would  be  altogether  alone 
with  her,  he  would  not  lose  his  self-mastery  as  he  had 
done  that  once  in  Lester's  office.  And  he  would  have 
now  no  excuse  in  the  failing  of  overstrained  nerves, 
after  days  and  nights  without  sleep  and  filled  with 
anxiety. 

He  faced  about  to  the  door,  as  he  felt,  rather  than 
heard,  her  steps.  She  pushed  aside  the  portieres  and 
they  fell  together  again  behind  her. 

Whatever  it  had  been  that  he  had  expected,  it  was 
not  the  same  quiet,  level  look  of  the  soft  brown  eyes, 
the  same  calm  smile  with  which  she  had  always  met 
him. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  373 

He  explained  the  reason  for  having  come  almost  an 
hour  later  than  the  time  she  had  set  in  her  note. 

"  I  went  to  the  meeting,"  he  continued,  when  she 
had  seated  herself  on  a  frail  pink  satin  settee,  and  he 
had  taken  a  heavier  chair  of  blue  and  the  same  elabo 
rate  curves  and  carvings  of  gold-leaf.  "  I  went,  know 
ing  that  I  would  be  shown  unmistakably  whether  the 
men  trusted  me  still  or  believed  Lockhart's  charges  as 
to  my  deliberately  losing  the  strike.  I  found  that  it 
was  the  former.  And  afterwards  it  was  impossible,  for 
a  while,  for  me  to  get  away  from  the  people  who  wanted 
to  assure  me  of  their  confidence." 

With  what  seemed  to  him  an  unwillingness  to  let 
him  come  to  the  real  matter  in  hand,  she  spoke  of  the 
conference  and  its  results  as  they  affected  him, 
questioning  him  as  to  his  plans  for  the  future.  He 
was  a  little  surprised  at  an  evasion  of  the  uppermost 
fact,  which  he  would  have  thought  unlike  her,  but  he 
told  her  what  it  was  his  intention  to  do.  As  soon  as 
the  arbitration  board  should  be  ready  to  start  on  its 
experimental  career,  he  would  resign  from  his  present 
office  and  devote  his  entire  time  to  the  board. 

"  Every  state  will  have  a  local  board  of  some  sort," 
he  told  her.  "  This  other,  which  will  be  a  court  of  last 
appeal,  and  for  interstate  matters,  will  probably  sit 
in  New  York.  That,  of  course,  will  be  where  I  shall 
live." 

And  then,  with  a  determination  not  to  remain  longer 


374  CAPTAINS   OF   THE   WORLD 

than  necessary  in  this  house  of  Mrs.  Durran's,  to  which 
he  had  been  so  very  reluctant  to  come  that  only  con 
sideration  of  Beatrice  could  have  brought  him,  he 
opened  the  subject  of  Lockhart's  speech. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  in  what  way  you  wish  me  to 
treat  it  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Is  there  anything  to  be  done  —  now  that  your  men 
have  showed  their  belief  in  you  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Is 
there  any  better  course  possible  than  to  treat — the  rest 
—  with  silence  ?  " 

He  bowed  his  head.  "  It  seems  to  me  the  best 
course,"  he  said  briefly. 

Then  his  deep  gray  eyes  looked  straight  and  steadily 
into  hers.  "  You  understand,  do  you  not,  Miss  Ten- 
nant,"  he  asked,  "  that  my  regret  of  all  this  is  so  great 
that  it  is  useless  for  me  to  try  to  put  it  in  words  ?  " 

"  I  understand,"  she  answered. 

"But,"  he  went  on,  "I  owe  you  an  explanation 
of  how  Lockhart  must  have  come  into  possession  of 
his  knowledge.  In  fact,  I  owe  it  to  both  you  and 
myself." 

He  stopped,  and  then  obliged  himself  to  continue. 
"It  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  say  to  you.  Perhaps, 
after  all,  I  had  better  have  written  it.  But  there  was  a 
woman  who  came  to  my  room  once  —  " 

Beatrice  remembered  Durran's  severe  words.  Man 
ning  saw  her  hand  move  as  if  unconsciously,  to  grasp 
and  close  tightly  upon  the  arm  of  the  settee. 


CAPTAINS   OF   THE  WORLD  375 

"A  woman,  — "  he  kept  to  it,  — "who  forced  herself 
in,  before  I  was  able  to  prevent  it." 

The  grasp  on  the  slight  bar  of  gilt  relaxed. 

"  It  happened  that  I  had  upon  my  desk  some  pictures 
of  yourself  which  I  had  cut  from  papers  and  magazines." 
His  face  flushed  darkly  and  painfully.  "  There  was 
also  the  little  tintype  which  you  once  gave  my  mother, 
if  you  remember  —  and  a  dried  rose,  one  which  you 
had  one  day  broken  off  and  dropped  in  the  street. 
Usually  I  kept  them  locked  from  sight.  But  I  had 
just  then  opened  the  box.  The  woman  saw  them,  and 
she  drew  her  own  conclusions."  The  dark  flush  had 
gone  and  his  face  had  become  of  a  gray  pallor  instead. 
"I  have  reason  to  believe,"  he  said,  "that  the  woman 
sees  Lockhart  now  frequently.  It  is  probably  she  who 
told  him." 

There  flashed  into  Beatrice's  mind  that  which 
Lester  had  once  told  her  of  Mrs.  Kemble,  and  she 
drew  her  own  quick  conclusion  as  to  who  the  woman 
might  have  been. 

Manning  had  finished,  and  with  an  almost  angry 
sense  that  he  might,  after  all,  much  better  have  written 
the  thing  than  appeared  to  force  himself  here  merely 
to  say  it,  he  rose  from  his  chair.  He  stood  looking 
down  at  her,  much  as  he  had  stood  in  the  far-off  day 
in  the  office  of  Lester's  parish-house.  And  there  was 
the  same  look  upon  his  face  that  there  had  been  then, 
save  that  it  was  less  strained  and  worn. 


376  CAPTAINS   OF    THE   WORLD 

"You  told  me  once  that  you  would  try  to  believe 
the  best  of  me  always,  whatever  might  happen.  I 
hope  that  you  did  to-day  —  even  so  much  against 
appearances." 

She  acquiesced  with  a  grave,  but  somewhat  unsteady, 
smile.  It  was  as  if  she  were  making  an  effort  to  keep 
her  eyes  from  falling  before  his. 

"  It  has  helped  me  through  not  a  few  difficulties  in 
the  past,"  he  told  her,  "to  feel  that  I  had  a  sort  of 
faith  to  keep  with  you.  And  it  will  help  me  now  in 
the  future.  For,"  he  spoke  slowly,  but  with  the 
deliberateness  of  intention,  "  I  loved  you  then,  and  I 
shall  love  you  always,  I  believe." 

He  moved  away  to  turn  to  the  door.  Beatrice 
stood  up,  resting  one  hand  still  upon  the  arm  of  the 
settee.  The  other  she  held  out  to  him.  He  took  it, 
and  he  felt  the  slender  ringers  close  upon  his  in  a 
touch  which  trembled.  Her  eyes  were  turned  up  to 
his,  and  gradually,  as  he  looked  into  them,  the  meaning 
of  that  which  he  saw  there  began  to  come  to  him.  He 
knew  that  the  other  hand  was  being  laid  softly  upon 
his  arm.  His  own  went  up  and  took  it.  He  put  all 
the  question  into  one  word.  "  Beatrice  ?  "  he  said. 

She  bowed  her  head  in  answer. 

He  drew  her  into  his  arms  and  held  to  his  lips  the 
fingers  which  still  clung  to  his. 


B  R 
OF  THE 

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Of 


ANNE    CARMEL 

By  GWENDOLEN  OVERTON 

Author  of  "  The  Heritage  of  Unrest"  etc. 

WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS   BY  ARTHUR   I.   KELLER 
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after  all  it  is  not  nature  she  is  primarily  concerned  with;  it  is 
human  nature  —  the  aspirations  and  temptations  of  Jean  Carmel 
and  his  sister.  How  they  are  limned,  their  strength  and  their 
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to  leave  out."  —  Pittsburgh  Gazette. 

"  Finely  and  exquisitely  done  .  .  .  with  delicate  perception 
and  discrimination."  —  Times  Dispatch  (Richmond). 

"  One  closes  this  book  with  a  strange  feeling  in  the  heart. 
Something  deep  and  impassioned  has  stirred  the  senses;  the 
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"  One  of  the  most  powerful  novels  of  the  year  .  .  .  origi 
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THE    MACMILLAN    COMPANY 

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THE  CAPTAIN'S  DAUGHTER 

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find  entertaining  the  bright,  crisp  story  of  military  life." 

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good  as  some  of  Captain  King's  best." —  Washington  Post. 

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